


in memory of

by bentsage



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Cult, Character Study, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-06-16 20:06:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15444828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bentsage/pseuds/bentsage
Summary: "Evening, Palmer," he drawls, and honestly there's a fifty-fifty shot the greeting is actually a threat. "Little late for neighborly visits, isn't it?"That's pretty rich, coming from the guy who'd just been within spitting distance of Eli's cabin. He shakes his head, coming to a halt in the middle of the clearing before realizing that he should probably keep an eye out for Jacob's dog. He hasn't seen the thing before, but from its bark, it sounds like it's probably a monster. He hopes it's too big to get the jump on him - he'd hope that it isn't trained to attack, but that seems like a lot to ask from a guy who blockades himself in with his own truck.--Eli Palmer is happy being left alone, but a new neighbor by the name of Jacob Seed threatens his sense of solitude and may force him to admit that being alone isn't the answer at all.(AKA: Eli is a sad trash man that doesn't recognize the fact that Jacob is aggressively hitting on him)





	1. you know what they say about assumptions

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not trying to accomplish anything with this, i just really like the idea of eli and jacob being boyfriends and i refuse to accept that i can't in fact have what i want???? so here is a story i am working on, it's about eli as a sad divorcee whose friends are slowly starting to realize that he can't be helped, only to find out that what he needed all along was an arrogant, piece of shit garbage baby named jacob seed
> 
> i also love the idea of jacob being aggressively gay at eli while eli's just like "hmmm I SURE DO LIKE ALL THIS ATTENTION FROM MY GOOD FRIEND" lmao  
> please go write eli/jacob fic so i don't have to do it

The path into the heart of Jacob Seed's acreage is, at best, a blurred line recklessly crafted through the underbrush. There's a more direct route just half a mile west, a formal dirt path wide enough for Jacob's dark red truck to barrel down late at night, but Eli Palmer doesn't want to be direct. He wants to see for himself that Jacob has been steadily creating a hunting path straight through Eli's own property before he adds it to the list of complaints he's bringing with him.

Ever since Jacob moved his trailer into the mostly untouched land north of Eli's property, things have been spinning wildly out of his control, and all signs have been pointing to Jacob goddamn Seed as the culprit. For one, Eli knows that Jacob is siphoning gas out of his generator. He's seen the man sneaking in the trees near his cabin, flashlight low to the ground, and it doesn't take a genius to equate those late night walks with his backup generator's quickly disappearing fuel. He's also a reckless driver, taking the roads at disconcerting speeds at all hours of the day and night, and Eli has had to avoid colliding with him more than once - and you can _bet_ Jacob is the one who flips him off for being in the way. This newly formed hunting track is just another worrying thing that Eli has discovered about the man Eli _should_ be thinking of as a neighbor.

There's also the matter of his loud, constantly howling dog, but Eli isn't going to be so petty as to bring _that_ up. He wouldn't even mind it so much if Jacob wouldn't walk the thing on his property. Hell, that's why he's out here tonight; he'd been cleaning his rifle when the dog had started howling somewhere nearby, barking madly after two rifle shots ring out through the trees. Eli has been able to ignore a lot of stuff lately - his own home, his own health, his own friends - but a man coming onto his land to hunt out of season is a step or three over the line, and he has to do _something_ about it.

In another life, Eli probably wouldn't be marching into enemy territory after dark. There'd been a time, not too long ago, where Eli would have waited for daylight, taken his truck and visited Jacob under the guise of a friendly neighbor. Maybe brought some peace offerings, just to let the man know that accidents happen, and that he's a forgiving kind of guy. But nowadays, nobody tells him off for following his impulses, and Eli doesn't need to be civilized just for civility's sake anymore. If Jacob Seed wants to walk around like he's got the right to trespass, then Eli is going to treat him just the same.

The path widens out, slowly but steadily, until the trees thin enough for Eli to make out a well-lit area ahead of him. He can hear the gentle hum of a generator somewhere nearby - probably hidden just out of sight, along with a gas can full of Eli's fuel. He considers going to look, but if Jacob catches him snooping before he makes his presence known, he might get his head blown off. With that unhappy realization in mind, Eli makes sure to stop the rest of the way down the path, and he's rewarded by not being shot when he breaks into the clearing.

At the heart of Jacob's land is an beat up old camper that Eli suspects will never move from its spot again. One of the tires on the back is missing, replaced with a very on-the-nose cinder block; its pop-out is stuck halfway expanded, as though Jacob had given up on it almost immediately; there's even a spot in the back where Eli is pretty sure he can see _into_ the damned thing. One glance at the old Trail-Lite tells Eli that Jacob is here for the long haul - for better or worse, he's going to be living behind Eli for the foreseeable future.

 A pair of strategically placed construction lights keep the living space washed in warm light, although there isn't much to illuminate. A beat up yard chair, a massive dog kennel by the hitch, and a whole swath of empty, tamped down dirt that's only good for circling a truck around in. Jacob's truck is parked almost directly across the road access; it reminds Eli of an old Western flick. Circling the wagons at night to keep the black hats away.

It only takes Eli a second to spot Jacob standing near the tree line. He has a healthy young deer strung up by its haunches on a steel gambrel, already halfway through skinning it with a massive buck knife. Even without the gory display, Jacob is hard to miss - he's built like a goddamn redwood, tall and sturdy, with visible scars patching down the side of his face and the back of his neck. Eli hasn't met the man personally, aside from a few brief nods of acknowledgment when necessary and the aforementioned bouts of road-rage, but he'd heard from Wheaty that the guy's intensity makes him hard to be around. He's got to agree there; even halfway across the clearing, Eli can feel his presence like a lead weight, or a black hole.

Jacob doesn't immediately acknowledge Eli's presence, wrist-deep in venison as he is, but once he's finished peeling back a strip of hide, he pauses, head turning just enough that his ear is on Eli's slow approach. He doesn't seem to care to see who's intruding on him, but even from this distance, Eli can see his back muscles tense for a fight.

"Evening, Palmer," he drawls, and honestly there's a fifty-fifty shot the greeting is actually a threat. "Little late for neighborly visits, isn't it?"

That's pretty rich, coming from the guy who'd just been within spitting distance of Eli's cabin. He shakes his head, coming to a halt in the middle of the clearing before realizing that he should probably keep an eye out for Jacob's dog. He hasn't seen the thing before, but from its bark, it sounds like it's probably a monster. He hopes it's too big to get the jump on him - he'd hope that it isn't trained to attack, but that seems like a lot to ask from a guy who blockades himself in with his own truck.

"This isn't exactly a neighborly visit," Eli says, which seems to get Jacob's attention. The man pivots on his heel, slowly turning away from his work, and fixes Eli with an inscrutable look that's practically stifling. Eli forces past his discomfort and gestures to the deer Jacob is taking apart. "I know you shot that buck on my property."

Jacob lifts the hem of his dirty gray tee to clean his knife. "That so," he replies. Eli watches the light glint off the clean steel, sees traces of more burn marks along Jacob's waist, uneven patches of skin pulling at the muscles in his abs. Eli wonders how far the scars go - from his face to his feet, from the looks of it. There's a story there, one that Eli isn't sure he wants to dig up, one that Jacob probably won't want to tell.

"Am I wrong?" Eli asks. He manages to close another few feet between them, ignoring the No Trespassing sign nailed to the side of the trailer. Jacob's eyes follow his every step, unblinking. His back is straight, his expression even, but he makes no effort to disguise how he's sizing Eli up for a fight. Eli decides to let him; Jacob isn't the only one with a military background on this mountain. Eli will finish any fight Jacob decides to start; hell, it'll probably be cathartic to throw down with someone who can take it.

To Eli's honest surprise, Jacob relents after only a moderately tense, awkward silence passes. "No," he says, "Not exactly." His shoulders start to relax, but that's the last thing Eli wants to see - as if just admitting fault is enough to absolve him of the crimes of trespassing and theft. As if this whole thing can just wrap up with a quick apology.

"Am I wrong to guess you're the one siphoning gas out of my generator, too?"

 _That_ accusation causes Jacob's brows to furrow. "You think I'm _stealing_ from you?" he asks, and to his credit, he sounds genuinely confused. "Why would I do that?"

Because you're a creepy asshole, is what Eli _wants_ to say, but he manages to keep a lid on it. "I can hear you and your dog creeping around outside my cabin, Jacob. If you need supplies, you have to _ask,_ you know that, right?"

Confusion crumbles into irritation as Jacob scowls at him, arms folding defensively across his chest. Eli doesn't miss the fact that he hasn't put down the knife yet. The muscles in his arms flex like maybe he wants to try planting it in Eli's skull at fifteen paces, but thankfully the handle stays in his white-knuckled grip. He shifts from foot to foot, then stills again.

"I like to go for walks at night," he says, though his teeth are so gritted that the words are hard to make out. "I didn't think I was _bothering you_."

Something about the way he says it makes it sound like an accusation. Like somehow _Eli_ is the bad guy here. Eli doesn't like how slimy it makes him feel, and he can't say he's fond of how Jacob is looking at him either, like he'd expected _better_ from him. He finds himself bristling at the idea that _Jacob_ is the victim here. "If that's all you're doing, then what's happening to my fuel? You and I are the only ones living out here. There aren't a lot of other options."

"Maybe it's a _leak_ ," Jacob growls, as if Eli hadn't perfunctorily tested for just such a thing. "I don't fucking know. It's not my problem what happens to your generator." His arms finally untangle themselves, and he gestures with his knife back the way Eli came. "I'll keep away from you from now on. You can get yourself home from here."

Eli opens his mouth to argue, but this _is_ what he wanted. Sort of. Right? He wanted Jacob to stay off his property, he wanted Jacob to stay away from his generator, he wanted Jacob to keep his business to himself. If this is exactly what he wants, then why does he feel so sour about being dismissed? He should be satisfied. It's not a fist fight, but at least now Eli knows he's going to be left alone. Now he can go back to his empty, dark cabin, and maybe tomorrow he can see if he really did just miss a leak in the tank.

The terrible thought comes and Eli can't help but latch onto it. What if he _is_ wrong? What if he really is the bad guy in this situation - the angry creep living alone in his cabin and hassling his new neighbor just because he can? What if _he's_ the one being the creepy, mean asshole here?

That isn't the kind of person Eli used to be, and he doesn't want it to be the person he becomes, either.

"Where's your dog?" he asks, almost instinctively looking for some reason to stick around, to make himself out to be less of a jackass even though it really should be _Jacob_ trying to save face.

Jacob stares blankly over Eli's shoulder, like he's not worth the visual effort. "Around," he replies. "You want me to leash him, too?"

"No, I..." Eli trails off, realizing that while he's starting to doubt himself, he doesn't necessarily want to eat crow before he _knows_ he was just overreacting. "I was only wondering."

Even that feels like an admission of defeat, but Jacob doesn't react beyond one slow, single blink. His eyes drag from Eli's face to his feet, then back up again, like he's sizing Eli up all over again. Eli's toes curl in his boots, and he fights to keep his breathing even. All at once, the clearing feels too small, Jacob too close. He'd thought there was plenty of distance between them, but now Eli knows that if Jacob wanted to, he'd have Eli's throat in his hands in an instant. Eli's never felt more like a prey animal than right now, and all he can do is hope all his hair helps hide his unease.

Pursing his lips together, Jacob whistles a short two-note sound, keeping his eyes on Eli. They're an intense, deep blue, and his gaze is petrifying.  "Intense" doesn't even _begin_ to describe them, but Eli's not sure what word could be better.  He can't look away, not until Jacob turns his head, deliberately slow, as if he knows he has to lead Eli's eyes to the massive creature crawling out from behind the trailer.

Eli isn't entirely convinced that the thing isn't a wolf, although it's two times the size of the ones that live in the mountains and has soft, white and gray fur instead of the dark, coarse colors of most timber wolves. Its muzzle still partially covered in blood that it can't seem to lick away. It probably gorged itself on deer entrails after Jacob field dressed his kill - that's probably why it didn't start barking as soon as it caught wind of Eli on the trail.

Shit, even if Eli _wanted_ Jacob to leash that monster, he's not sure it would do anything.  At least it seems to be completely obedient; all it wants to do is sit patiently by Jacob's feet.  Its tail wags in lazy circles on the ground as it looks up at Jacob like it'll do anything he wants it to. Sit, roll over, speak, murder Eli - anything.

Jacob is openly analyzing Eli's reaction. Eli isn't sure if he likes what he sees or not. Whatever it is, his posture shifts once again; his shoulders loosen, his back straightens, and the too-smallness of Jacob's property looms up between them all over again. The distant implication of violence is still there under the surface, but Jacob doesn't move from his spot, and he doesn't give his dog any signal to attack. That's... good, Eli thinks, although he's not sure he likes Jacob staring at him as though he wants to take him apart.

"Anything else I can do for you, neighbor?" Jacob asks, making it clear that he doesn't think Eli's a very _good_ neighbor. It's fair, really. Eli hasn't had a reason to be a good neighbor in a long time.

"No," Eli mutters, "I've said my piece."

"Then you can leave."

Eli nods absently at the thought, but his feet don't get the notice that they're supposed to be leaving. It feels like the soles of his boots are welded to the ground, Jacob's gaze enough to melt the rubber, pinning Eli in place against both of their wills. Jacob stares him down as the seconds tick by; when Eli manages one step backwards, enough to turn into, enough to build momentum with, Jacob's lip curls into an ungenerous smile.

"Maybe you want to stay," he suggests. His voice is rough, dark, _insidious_ , and Eli feels it scratching up his spine, promising that something might happen if Eli doesn't get his legs working. Eli doesn't know what that something could be - not with the way Jacob is smiling at him now - but he's pretty sure he doesn't want to stick around and find out.

"No," Eli repeats. His voice cracks on the syllable and he rushes to clear his throat, Jacob's grin growing as Eli begins to turn embarrassingly red. He should have left before Jacob's unsettling gaze got to him. Showing weakness to a man like the one in front of him feels like the last mistake Eli will ever make - but Jacob only shrugs, expression amused but neutral.

"Suit yourself," he says, lifting one shoulder noncommittally before turning back to his knife and his half-skinned deer. The dog sits and stares at Eli in its master's place, like it doesn't get why Eli hasn't already run back the way he came.

If that isn't a tacit dismissal, Eli doesn't know what is. He curls his toes in his boots and finds that his feet are back under his control, his limbs willing to move on their own again, and Eli is surprised to feel the shadow of disappointment in his belly. The last few minutes have stretched on for longer than Eli had expected and now it feels surreal to turn around and go home, to forget about the stolen gas and the heavy weight of Jacob's eyes pinning him to the ground. Part of him wonders just what would happen if he _did_ stay? Something tells him Jacob wouldn't just offer him a beer and want to talk shop.

Jacob's foot shifts in the dirt, like he might turn back around, and Eli's instincts respond immediately, turning him about-face and urging him back down the path before he accidentally overstays his welcome twice in one night. _Whatever_ might come of him lingering too long, Eli's certain he doesn't want any part of it. He can't imagine what kind of fucked up shit a man like Jacob Seed gets into for fun, and he's fine not knowing.

Eli walks home in silence, and stands for a moment at the treeline to watch the unlit windows for any signs of movement.  As usual, there's nothing.  He pauses halfway to the porch to stare at his backup generator, but it's too dark to do any investigating, so he turns away, heads inside, and doesn't bother turning on any lights on his way to bed.


	2. jumping off a roof never killed anybody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli climbs his way to the roof, and then, much like a sad, stupid animal, gets stuck there. Thankfully, there are people living in the woods now, and that means help is on the way!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a fucking terrible title, im sure, but i cant draw any more lines out of the song that gave me a title so i'm just winging it...  
> the next chapter is like, hahahhahahaha, A MONSTER?? (easily 2x the length of these chapters)  
> so be prepared for that i guess!!!  
> i'm so glad you guys are digging this :) you guys are the mvps, the reason i keep getting sucked into this dumb story. i hope i continue to give you quality shitboy content in the future!

It's a hot, dry day at the tail end of a heatwave, and Eli Palmer is contemplating throwing himself off the roof of his own cabin. He isn't serious about it, not yet, but if he doesn't come up with a better plan soon, it might be his only option. It's either that or hyperfocus on how this is one-hundred-percent his fault. He's the one who'd woken up with a hair up his ass about the long list of chores he's been putting off, who decided to indulge his manic uptick instead of pacing himself. _He's_ the one who had decided today would be the day he'd patch the holes in the roof, despite the thermometer hike warning him to stay out of the sun. _He's_ the one who decided to climb up here by himself, without so much as a radio or a water bottle. And _now_ , he's the one who's stuck on his own goddamn roof while his ladder lays sadly in the dirt.

Eli's sure he can get down without it, but being such an idiot has made sitting and rotting seem much more appealing. The most he can do is cover himself with the towel he'd brought to keep from burning himself on the hot metal roof, and even that feels like defeat. The worst part is, this isn't even the halfway point on his list for today - assuming he doesn't break a leg getting down from the roof, he's still going to have to go into town, fix a broken valve in the shower, patch & paint holes in the drywall, come back up here to actually _repair_ the roof, rip out the carpet under where the roof had been leaking...

Ugh. Eli pulls the towel over his face and groans into it, as though his mounting anxiety is just a kettle that needs to let off steam. It doesn't help, but if he's lucky it'll at least keep him from actually throwing himself off the roof.

If he's really lucky, he'll die of heatstroke before somebody comes and forces him to be helped.

Thank God Tammy isn't here. If she could see him right now, Eli's pretty sure she'd drive him in for a psych evaluation. This would just be proof positive that he is, in fact, _not_ coping well on his own, and he bets it'd be a week before she moved in "for support." There's a good reason he hasn't had her up to the cabin in a few months - the place is falling apart, and Eli doesn't need anybody thinking he doesn't have a handle on it. He does. That's why he's up here on his roof after all, right?

_Ughhh_.

Far off down the road, Eli picks up the sound of a car engine rumbling in his direction. He's close enough to the main road that it could be a passerby, but he knows he's not that lucky as he hears tires take the familiar dirt bump at the end of his drive. He doesn't bother raising his head to face the car rumbling up to his front porch; this is going to be embarrassing no matter _who_ winds up coming to his rescue, so why not let it be a surprise. All he can hope is that it's somebody less invested in his mental health than Tammy. Wheaty had wanted to pick up a stack of vinyls Eli's been trying to get rid of, so it could be him. Earl keeps talking about swinging by, even though he never does. Hell, there are so many people bugging him to come out of the woods lately, it could be practically anybody.

The engine cuts off, the parking gear squealing as it slides into place. Eli closes his eyes and takes a breath as his visitor climbs out of the cab, slamming the door and turning gravel under their feet. When he opens his eyes again, it's with carefully manufactured determination to get off this roof before his  brain eats itself.

Throwing himself off returns to being his "plan A" as soon as he lays eyes on Jacob Seed leaning against the grill of his truck. He shades his eyes with his hand as he squints up at Eli, other hand tucked in his front pocket, calm, confident, _amused_. Of _course_ this is how today is going to turn out. Eli hasn't seen or heard from Jacob since he accused him of trespassing, and he'd been starting to get used to being alone in the woods again, so of course the bastard has to show up when Eli is in no position to defend himself.

"Lookin' hot, Palmer," Jacob drawls, like he's so goddamn funny. Eli would just love to punch him in the face, but unfortunately, that still requires Jacob's help getting down, so it'll have to wait. "How long've you been up there?"

"Long enough to be thankful to see _you_ ," Eli groans. "Can you just..." He gestures towards the space where his ladder _should_ be resting against the roof, the rest of his request stifled by the embarrassment growing in his gut. All he can hope is that Jacob doesn't see how upset his own idiot move is making him.

Jacob doesn't move aside from a slow tilt of his head, standing still long enough that Eli thinks he might be dumbstruck by how dumb this situation is. He doesn't even _say_ anything, not even when he finally moves; he just picks up the ladder and leans it against the edge of the roof at Eli's feet. Eli had expected him to toss another shitty quip in his direction, or maybe use this time to lecture him about making accusations in the middle of the night, but he... _doesn't_. He stands quietly at the foot of the ladder, bracing it with both arms and looking patiently up as Eli hesitates.  He gets a very Charlie Brown feeling from this, and hopes that Jacob isn't the kind of guy to yank the ladder away when Eli's trying to climb it.

He tries to rush before Jacob pulls any tricks, only to find that there isn't much space for him when he reaches the bottom. He turns too fast, reaching back to grip the ladder for balance as he finds himself trapped between Jacob's massive arms. If he'd thought Jacob's camp had been close quarters, it is _nothing_ compared to this - Jacob is very literally looming over Eli, close enough that Eli can see the way the muscle in his jaw tightens as his mouth curls into a smile. He smells like sweat and sawdust, like he's stopping here only after putting in hours at the lumber mill. Eli doesn't know what he does for work, but he can easily imagine the manual labor that led to the hard muscles in his arms.

"You should be more careful," Jacob says, his voice rumbling in Eli's chest at this uncomfortably close distance. "What would you have done if I hadn't shown up?"

Eli is momentarily distracted by how white Jacob's teeth are. "Probably risked a rolled ankle," he responds, because it's the honest truth. Why isn't Jacob _moving_ , already? "Have you ever heard of personal space, Seed?"

"Hmm." Jacob huffs out a laugh of sorts and finally steps back. "Gratitude is not one of your virtues," he says, hooking his hands into his front pockets as though he hadn't been all but holding Eli a moment ago. As if he isn't still well within grabbing range now. The thought scratches the back of Eli's neck so bad he has to roll his shoulders to get rid of it.

"Why _are_ you here?" Eli asks, edging around Jacob to get to his water bottle, the stupid thing sitting safely in the shade where he'd left it. Down here, underneath the roof he'd been baking on, things are a lot more manageable; he takes a long drink of water before fixing Jacob with a skeptical look. "I figured you and I were done talking."

"I wouldn't say that at all," Jacob replies. He follows Eli's path into the shade, as though he can't let Eli alone without looming over him. At least his arms stay by his sides this time, although his biceps flex as though he wants to reach out.

"Jacob, I don't like asking questions twice."

"Doesn't seem to be much you _do_ like," Jacob says, amused enough to grate right on Eli's nerves. "I've been thinking about you a lot lately."

"I'm flattered," Eli says, rolling his eyes. "What do you _want_?"

Jacob licks his lips, considering Eli with an unreadable expression. He shrugs. "You were right to blame me for your missing gas," he says at last. "Not because I had anything to do with it, but I was the logical suspect. So I get it."

Eli raises his eyebrows. "Is this an apology?"

"If that makes you feel better."

It doesn't. Eli doesn't know _what_ it does, other than make him feel uncomfortable and jittery in his own skin. His stomach feels full of live insects. Shit. He feels _guilty_. Even though Jacob's apology is clearly half-assed and not _strictly_ apologetic, it's still more than Eli's given him, considering the circumstances. "I... know you weren't responsible," he admits miserably. "I don't know _who_ is, because there's no leak and I'm still waking up with a half-empty tank every other day, but I know it isn't you."

Although he turns away quick, Eli doesn't miss the lopsided smile that forms on Jacob's face. The wriggling feeling in his gut subsides, at least a little, softening to something that Eli could generously call butterflies. If Eli were the type of guy to get butterflies, that is.  He doesn't.  He isn't.

"Well, now that we're... good..." He shrugs as he fails to find a better word for what they are, trailing off as he picks up the list he had written this morning. With forty-five minutes wiped out of his day - more, now that Jacob is here bothering him - Eli isn't so sure he's going to clear this list he'd been so confident about finishing. And considering he doesn't know how he's going to feel tomorrow, it might be a while before he gets to some of the stuff further on the list. Maybe if he puts off the things he has to drive into town for...

Distracted as he is, Eli doesn't realize he's left Jacob hanging until the other man fills in the space between him and the porch steps, reaching over and pulling the list from Eli's hands before he can put up a fight. "Looks like the roof was just the first stop," he says conversationally, as if he isn't forcing himself into Eli's personal space and personal business without so much as a _how do you fucking do_. Eli snatches the list away from him before he can think about how bad an idea it is, and Jacob lets him take it, tilting his head curiously as Eli nearly crumples the paper up in front of him out of spite. "Seems like things got away from you," he says, as if this is a conversation they need to be having.  That he needs Jacob Seed of all people to be having with him.

"Yeah, well - I've been busy. Some things had to be put on the back burner."

Something unfamiliar moves through Jacob's expression, a momentary softness, or whatever counts as soft for Jacob Seed. It's a familiar enough look on his friends' faces, but it's almost jarring on Jacob's. He wonders what Jacob's heard about him; after Eli's unannounced visit, he could have decided to do some reconnaissance on his unhappy neighbor. It wouldn't take more than a few questions around town to find out all of Eli's dirt.  Hell, he's sharp enough that he could probably figure it out just by the way people avoid talking about it.

The thought frustrates him. He doesn't need Jacob's sympathy, or _whatever_ it is that he's got brewing for Eli. He doesn't _want_ it.

"I have a lot to do, so unless you have something else you need..." He moves to the door, then thinks better of it, wondering if Jacob might take it as an invitation inside. He turns back to tell the man to get lost, and his scowl is met with a cocky grin. " _What_?" Eli snaps, because he likes smug Jacob even less than pitying Jacob.

"You haven't even thanked me for helping you off the roof," Jacob says, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.

That only riles Eli more, and he has to clench his fists at his side to keep from doing something stupid, like punching Jacob's lights out. Or trying to, anyway - he's not so sure that Jacob wouldn't win if they had to go toe-to-toe. "Thank you," he grits out, unable to help feeling a little guilty for having to be _reminded,_ which of course only makes his irritable mood worse.

For one awful moment, Eli thinks Jacob is going to be a true dick and reject his gratitude. He looks like he's contemplating it, anyway, until all at once he's moving, taking two steps to reach Eli and then one more to close the gap between them. It's a close thing because Jacob has a sort of static film around him that seriously messes with Eli's head, but he manages to stand his ground. His resistance softens Jacob's grin into a smile, like he'd known Eli wouldn't budge and he's glad to be proven right.

Jacob leans in. Eli has a terrible thought, one that puts his heart into his throat, Jacob's white teeth flashing as his smug smile turns into an even smugger grin.

"You're welcome," he rumbles. Eli feels his breath across his face, and he can't look away, Jacob's eyes freezing him to the spot. That terrible thought of his rattles around in his brain as his eyes catch on the other man's scars, the way they curve along his cheek, half-hidden by his beard but still there, pulling Jacob's lower lip down and ruining any trace of symmetry in the man's face. He doesn't realize Jacob is pulling the paper out of his hand until it's too late.

"Hey -"

Jacob steps back before Eli can think, holding the paper up and rolling it into a tube between his fingers. "I'm already going into the valley," he says, as though they'd planned for this, as though Eli would _ever_ ask for Jacob's help. He wonders if Jacob knows how fucking patronizing this is. Smug bastard probably knows _exactly_ how he's coming off.

"I'm a grown ass man," Eli snaps. "I can take care of my own errands."

Maybe Jacob _hadn't_ realized how infantilizing he's being, because his posture loosens, his hands coming up in deference. "I'll help you now," he says, "And in return, you won't complain if my dog and I walk through your property now and again."

Eli should say no. He should tell Jacob to get lost, that there's a very good reason Eli doesn't want him around, that he doesn't need the man pretending to compromise with him, _he can handle himself_.

"Hey," Jacob says, feigning nonchalance, "I'm just trying to be a better neighbor."

Eli lets out a long sigh, his shoulders sagging. " _Fine_. If it'll get you off my property, knock yourself out."

Jacob chuckles. "You got plenty of other things to get done," he says, holding out the list. "I won't keep you."

Eli takes the paper and lets Jacob go without trying to get another word in. Partially because it would just encourage the guy to stick around and goad him, but mostly because he isn't sure how to take this strange, opportunistically timed olive branch. Jacob doesn't even seem to care that Eli's just standing on the porch watching him take off; he peels out without looking back, leaving a small whirlwind of dust in his path. He hadn't even stopped to talk about repayment.

"Okay," Eli says to the empty air around him, "What the fuck was all of _that_?"


	3. conversational repetition is a good way to get a second chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Police drive by Eli's home. Jacob is is a chronically bad decision maker. Alcohol is the solution and the problem in most every situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy cow man this is a fucking monster chapter. it took me so long lol and it's still kind of shaky at the end but i want to move forward with my life damn it!!! so here it is, a chapter that single-handedly doubles the wordcount for the fic
> 
> i've decided i'm adding at least one more chapter (possibly two) because i absolutely need to discuss eli and jacob constantly, forever. anyway, the next chapter will be very chill, totally not dumb, and then after that we will finally get to all that good good romance!!! they're gonna have such nice dates as long as jacob's brothers don't interrupt and make things awkward and terrible :) :) :)
> 
> i hope you enjoy this chapter! feel free to leave a comment, i love hearing from you guys!!

Things between Eli and Jacob change after the roof.  It starts when Jacob forcibly puts his contact information into Eli's phone, practically wrestling the thing from his hand to do it; he tells Eli to text him the next time he gets trapped on his own roof, "or whatever".  His number sits unused at the bottom of Eli's contacts list for all of three days before he finally reaches out, feeling weirdly guilty as he offers to pay Jacob back for the patch kit and spare drill bit he'd picked up.  Maybe it's because it took him this long to get around to it, he doesn't know.

Jacob tells him not to worry about it.  Eli _does_ worry about it, of course, but he doesn't bring it up again, and apparently, all Jacob had needed to start talking was an active conversation log.  He mostly asks mundane questions, like where to get a good burger or if there are any good places to fish around the valley, and he asks them with such regularity that Eli gets used to the sound of his phone buzzing.  It's enough that Eli starts coming up with his own reasons to text; he's bad at it, he knows he is, talking about projects he's catching up on or sending snapshots from DIY jobs he's been called to repair, but Jacob always responds.  He's got a dry, sometimes dark sense of humor, and he makes up for his lack of handiness with brutal, dramatic repair tips that would probably put Eli on some kind of list if he pulled them off.

It's weirdly delightful when Jacob starts sending him pictures of his dog without warning one day.  They're not particularly cute or funny, just his dog's face crowding the camera, then lying around in the dirt, and eventually a video of him rolling in the dirt as he tries to scratch an itch on his back.  It's ridiculous how a few dumb pictures make Eli feel, warm and somehow trusted, but he saves them all the same.

After a long day of paying back overdue favors across half the county, Eli has half a mind to request more mindless feel-good pictures of Jacob's dog.  He refrains, mostly because he doesn't want Jacob using his fondness for animals against him, but the thought's there as he trudges through the evening.  Even when he takes a long, hot shower, his thoughts keep idly circling back to Jacob and his dumb dog, and then to his undeveloped campsite.  It's been a while since they've seen each other, and it might be nice to catch up in person.  Plus, the chance of getting Jacob's dog to warm up to him is an added bonus after a stressful day.

His hopes for a quiet, maybe slightly social night are dashed as Eli catches red-and-blue lights strobing up the road.  There are no sirens - Eli doesn't know which would be worse - but there don't have to be.  The lights alone turns his heart into a lump of lead in his chest, the same way they had the last time Earl had driven himself all the way out to these parts.  He knows the car isn't coming for him, but he's still tense as he watches the sheriff's police cruiser glide past.  There's no way to tell how long he stands there, staring at the road after the car disappears; he only remembers to move when he hears Jacob's dog start barking up the way.

Eli needs to get a hold of himself.  He finds himself pressed against the window so he pulls away, turning to pace the length of his living room.  That plan is immediately trashed as he hears a car roaring up the road; he knows by sound alone that it's not Jacob's truck, which he hasn't heard all day, and he catches a flash of dark blue paint as a muscle car powers along the road past his place.  Wherever the driver is going, they're in a goddamn hurry.

He _could_ send Jacob a text.  As a matter of fact, Eli has his phone in his hand, and he's staring at a blank input without any idea of what to say.  The last message from Jacob is from two days ago, when Eli had to drain a flooded bunker that was literally wall-to-wall cans of Spam. It's embarrassing to reread, because it devolved pretty quickly into them quoting _Monty Python_ like middle schoolers, but he can't bring himself to delete it. Hopefully the last text he gets from Jacob won't be an ironic-in-hindsight "bring out your dead" joke.

_(406) Everything ok?_

Nothing comes back to him for a good thirty minutes. Eli manages to distract himself for most of it, but he can't ignore the police cruiser trundling back down the mountain, lights off as it drives by his home. He hears it first, then watches it go by, waiting for a minute longer to see if the blue muscle car will follow. When it doesn't, he goes back to his phone and checks in case he didn't hear the alarm, but there's still nothing. Old anxieties begin to chew at him, and a few minutes later, Eli grabs his flashlight and heads into the woods.

The path that used to be barely visible has become wide enough that Eli doesn't have to struggle against the underbrush. Jacob takes his dog past Eli's on a semi-regular basis now, although he doesn't stop to talk. Eli would say they aren't those kinds of friends, but that's not quite right.  It's more like Jacob doesn't want to bother him. He'll have to tell Jacob it's okay if he wants to stop by if he feels like it - assuming he's there, and that he hasn't been dragged away by the police for doing something stupid.

Eli's nearly on top of his destination when he hears somebody other than Jacob talking - yelling, really, having a heated and one-sided conversation.  He's loud enough that Eli can't help but hear him, even as he considers doubling back and coming around at a better time to avoid overhearing something he shouldn't.

"For fuck's sake, Jacob," the stranger shouts, "Do you know how many strings I have to pull every time you let some slack-jawed yokel rile you up?" There's a low rumble in response that sounds like it might be Jacob, but Eli can't make out words, and the voice continues on uninterrupted. "Do you know what you're doing to Joseph every time you decide to isolate yourself away from everybody?"

If Jacob is replying, Eli can't hear it, but there's a long pause before the stranger exclaims, "We're supposed to be in this _together_. That was the _agreement!_ "

Jacob _definitely_ growls, there; Eli isn't sure if he's actually saying anything, or if he's gone feral on the person berating him.

"Fine, you know what? _Fuck it_. Have fun being alone, _again_! Because that's what you're going to be if you don't get your shit together."

It's quiet enough that Eli can hear the stranger storming away; considering how Jacob parks his truck, he likely has to circle around the barricade to get back to his car. It isn't until the stranger is on the far end of the property that he calls out, tired and a little desperate, "You know where we are."

Eli waits until he hears the car roar to life and peel out down the drive before he starts moving again. He should probably go home; Jacob is going to know he was eavesdropping the second he comes through the trees, and he definitely hadn't sounded like he was in the mood for company. Eli's presence is only going to make the situation worse - he can come back tomorrow, or wait until Jacob replies to him via text to avoid any face-to-face confrontations.

Even as he tries to talk himself out of it, Eli's feet take him closer and closer to the end of the path.  As he reaches the tree line, Jacob's dog begins to bark, a few unhappy woofs followed by a mournful howl. "Knock it off, Rambo," Eli hears Jacob groan.  Taking a steadying breath, Eli counts to three and then breaks through the tree line.

Jacob is slumped in his decrepit lawn chair, the remains of a six-pack hung over one armrest and a cooler full of beer by his feet. His dog barks at Eli's abrupt appearance, crawled under Jacob's camper so that only his nose and paws are visible, but there's no mad dash to dismember Eli.

"Wasted no time gettin' up here," Jacob growls, draining the can he's holding and crumpling it slowly in his fist. It's probably supposed to be intimidating, but between his slur and his bleary, moody glare, the effect is somewhat lost. "S'pose Whitehorse stopped by already?"

"No," Eli replies with a frown. "Strangely enough, I'm here of my own free will."  Not that he's surprised to hear Earl implied he'd be checking in with Jacob's neighbor.  Earl is all about community, which is a little ironic considering the reclusive nature of most preppers.

The face Jacob makes is unimpressed, but he doesn't argue. "Saw the lights, huh."

"They were hard to miss. Hard to miss the muscle car, either."

Jacob's shoulders tense, his scowl darkening. "John," he says. "My brother." He clears his throat, adding reluctantly, "One of them."

Eli had known there were a couple of Seeds in the valley, but he hasn't actually met the others yet. It's mostly his fault - he doesn't socialize much anymore beyond work and the occasional round of beers down at the Spread Eagle, so he's never crossed their paths. Jacob doesn't talk about them much - Eli can probably count on one hand the number of times he's mentioned having family, period - and Eli has a feeling it's a sore subject.  Considering that his own friends have told him with a great deal of bias that every Seed they've met has been a jerk, there could be a good reason for that.

"I should have known. Driving that bad must run in the family."

Jacob purses his lips, eyes darting briefly to meet Eli's before he ducks his head for another beer. He cracks open a can with a label Eli doesn't recognize, sinking back into his seat and finally meeting Eli's eyes full on. He definitely looks like he's been drinking for a while now: flushed across the center of his face, half-lidded eyes, a slight but noticeable sway as he slurps from his can.  He's always had bags under his eyes, but tonight they're impossible to miss as Jacob stares up at Eli with an unreadable expression.

"You look like shit," Eli tells him.

Jacob grins wryly in response, reaching out with one leg to knock his foot against the cooler. "Have a drink," he says, in a surprisingly explicit gesture of goodwill. From the way he'd sounded talking to John, Eli had figured this would be another terse, badly planned visit, just like before. Instead, Jacob seems downright amicable - at the very least, he doesn't seem to mind Eli's presence as much as he had minded his brother's.

It isn't until Eli pops the tab on a can and takes a long swig that he decides to cut to the chase. "What'd the sheriff want with you, anyway?" he asks, fighting to ignore the accusatory look Jacob throws his way. He must do a decent enough job because Jacob eventually drops his eyes to his drink, which he then drains half of. Eli almost feels guilty for forcing the conversation, but if Earl had suggested Jacob talk to Eli about whatever happened, he probably had a good reason to do so.

"Nothing they were gonna do anything about," he grunts. "It doesn't matter."

"Earl doesn't drive out here for nothing," Eli says. He does a better job of ignoring Jacob's irritation this time. "You can tell me to fuck off, if you want."

For a long moment, Jacob looks at Eli like he wants nothing more than to do just that. Thankfully for both of them, Jacob seems reluctant to make Eli do anything, offering him a one-shoulder shrug. "Somebody talkin' shit, is all. I wasn't going to hurt him or anything."

Oh, boy. Even Jacob seems ashamed to pull that line, more interested in staring at Eli's feet than meeting his eyes. Eli finishes his can and drops the empty near the pile Jacob's been making. He pulls out two more beers, then kicks the cooler's lid closed so that he can have a place to sit. Settling down on the plastic top and being reassured when it doesn't immediately collapse under him, Eli cracks open his next beer and drops his elbows to his knees.

"If you had, I guess Earl would've taken you in." He takes a long pull, hoping that maybe Jacob will speak up, but he just sits in silence, staring at the cooler between Eli's knees. "Or was that John's doing?"

Jacob blinks slowly at the mention of his brother. "Probably. John's better at talking me outta things. I only make things worse."

The way he says it makes it clear that he's not just talking about run-ins with the cops. "What," he says, kicking Jacob's foot gently to draw his attention, "You mean you're a stubborn sonuvabitch even around authority figures? Color me shocked."

Jacob laughs quietly at that, his boot shifting in the dirt to press against Eli's, before sliding back into place.  "...Some shithead was goin' off about some government bullshit, tried to rope me into it.  Sheriff said his name was... Zap?  Zip?  Somethin' stupid like that."

"Ah, shit," Eli says, because he knows Zip well enough to know that this is going to be a fucking terrible story.

Jacob doesn't seem to hear his interjection, because he continues uninterrupted.  "Told him to fuck off, guess he spotted my dog tags and thought, y'know.  He could talk about that to me."  Jacob glances at Eli briefly, as if he's worried Eli might take that as an invitation to pry, but Eli knows better and keeps his mouth shut.  When he doesn't engage, Jacob continues on in a darker, more pensive way.  "I told him to go away.  _Three times_.  Guess I said something that pissed him off, 'cos he wouldn't leave me the fuck alone.  So I..."

Trailing off with a scowl, Jacob eyes the unopened beer by Eli's side.  He knows he shouldn't be encouraging more drinking right now, but he hands it over anyway.  He doesn't know what else he can do to ease the frustration and fury he can see boiling inside the other man, all of it turned inward.  He can't say anything, that's for sure - he's sure if he does, Jacob will throw up a wall and pivot away from the subject.  Hell, he can practically see Jacob waiting for the opportunity.

Jacob seems to realize he's not getting an out, sighing and taking a few drinks before continuing.  "I told him a story from one of my tours.  He wanted to hear it, after all.  Must've done my job right, tellin' it - he got spooked outta the bar."  He waits, again hoping Eli will cut in, his mouth set in a grim line as he stares at his beer.  He rolls the can between his palms.  "I guess he thought I was following him when I went to the liquor store to get some drinks for later, 'cos he started going off on me there, talking about me trying to silence his first amendment rights, _whatever_.  Wasn't really payin' much attention, until he started trying to - _tell_ people what I told him.  So.  I..."

"You said you didn't hurt him," Eli finally says, while Jacob grinds his teeth.  "You... didn't, right?"

"Of course I didn't."  Despite the vitriol in his voice, he doesn't seem to blame Eli for asking.  "He probably didn't know that when I started chasing him, though.  He got in his car and I... took my liquor and followed him."

_Jesus Christ_ , Eli wants to say.  He manages to keep a lid on it, but it's a close thing.

"I parked outside his place," Jacob mutters, stormy eyes moving to fix on some point out in the dark.  "Finished off some of the whiskey I'd got, thought about... things."  Jacob's dark expression tells Eli that he doesn't want to know just what those things were.  "Eventually he used a fuckin' megaphone to tell me he called the police, so I backed over his mailbox and went home.  Sheriff rolled up an hour later, followed by John, and now..." He finishes with a vague gesture towards the situation at hand, like he thinks the ending could use some work.  He's probably right; in a different retelling, Jacob would have been taken in for driving under the influence, trespassing, harassment...

But he didn't get taken in.  If Jacob told Earl everything he'd just told Eli, well, he can actually understand why he might get a warning just this once.  Zip is harmless, but he has a big mouth and no sense of self-preservation, and if he'd antagonized a guy like Jacob Seed, well... he doesn't think Zip deserves being chased across half of the county, but the guy needs to learn to not spout off at strangers.  Especially terrifying veterans who tell him to back off when he starts asking them about their time in the military.

Still.  Eli can just imagine how terrified Zip must've been, so used to not being taken seriously that he probably hadn't even realized how serious the situation had become. Seeing Jacob speeding after him must have been terrifying - and then to have him sitting outside his place for over an hour afterward? Zip probably thought some government agency had sent Jacob specifically to put him down for dissidence.  He probably still thinks so - damn, Earl's probably going to have a time and a half convincing him otherwise.

The part that worries him most is the image of Jacob, sitting in the dark, nursing a bottle of whiskey and letting himself stew in his own bad energy.  Whatever Zip had dredged up tonight is still raw in Jacob's expression.  It's a twisted bundle of nerves that's been awakened with a sledgehammer, and Eli struggles with an urge to comfort him, to reach out and... what, he doesn't know.  But the sympathy and worry are complicated by the knowledge that Jacob drove all the way from the valley after - and possibly _while_ \- nursing a bottle of liquor and holding a big fucking grudge.  He hates the idea, _hates_ it, enough that it makes his skin crawl as his mind picks apart all the awful ways things could have gone wrong tonight.

"Jesus, Jacob," Eli says, "That's... not great.  You can't go tearing after people trashed out of your mind."

Jacob huffs in response. "I know."  He's so petulant about it that Eli's desire to grab him turns into the desire to _shake_ him, to tell him just how much Eli fucking hates the idea of _anyone_ taking these roads drunk, but he swallows the urge.  Who knows - maybe Jacob knows all about how Eli feels.  Maybe he just doesn't give a shit that the idea of Jacob rolling his truck or wrapping it around a fucking tree makes Eli sick.  He probably shouldn't even care.  It's Jacob's life - let him do whatever the hell he wants.

Even thinking that makes Eli's stomach twist. "I'm serious," he says. He tries to turn his head to catch Jacob's attention, but the man is childishly refusing to meet his eyes. "You can't do that shit. The roads out here are bad enough as it is. Taking them on hammered is an idiot move."

"I _know_ ," Jacob grunts again, his scowl deepening.

"Everybody _knows_ , but you _did it_. You _are_ lucky John was here, because Earl doesn't take that shit lightly. _Nobody_ around here does."

"I _fucking know_ ," Jacob snaps, bracing his hands on the chair as though he might jump out of it, if he were in any state to move.  His eyes briefly lift to search Eli's expression, dropping back to the ground almost immediately. "I wasn't..." He grits his teeth. "I wasn't thinking."

" _That's_ obvious," Eli says, only to realize that he's been through this before. The words are cookie-cut from another conversation. How many times had he and his ex-wife argued semantics and guilt and blame?  Damn it.  He knows the way this talk goes, and he knows the way it ends: with him leaving Jacob stewing in his own bad decisions, and them never having a real conversation again.  It ends with an uncrossable chasm between them.

So, he decides to try a different route.  It's weird to look at Jacob and see the shadow of his own past lingering there, but Eli can feel a fishhook in his gut that demands he open up. "I'm going to level with you," he says, rubbing his suddenly sweaty palms against his jeans. "Seeing those lights like that, it... brought up some bad memories for me.  Damn it, Jacob, you already drive like an asshole.  You have my number - call me next time you think it's a good idea to go joyriding with a handle of Jameson, okay?"

Jacob, who couldn't seem to hold Eli's gaze before, is now staring at him.  For the first time since they met, Eli sees Jacob's guard drop, searching Eli's face, anxious and confused. His brow furrows like he can't decide if he's seeing double, and he visibly struggles to find a response that's more than just gaping. It's embarrassing, makes Eli want to pull his hair in front of his face, but he manages not to. He's making the conscious decision to be open with his feelings, even if that means showing his own embarrassment, and there's no going back.

At long last, Jacob exhales, regarding Eli with a softer expression than a more sober Jacob would probably allow. It's - nice? Eli's not sure if that's the right word, but it's good to see.  It makes the tension in his gut ease, makes his shoulders relax. "So you _do_ like me," Jacob drawls with a little laugh, leaning his head back and regarding Eli with hooded eyes. He goes so far as to lift a finger at Eli and say, "You came here 'cos you were _worried_ about me."

Eli can't help but laugh a little in return. "I guess I did," he admits, less embarrassed now that he knows Jacob isn't about to throw his words back in his face. "And I guess I do."

"Mmhmm," Jacob agrees absently, watching Eli thoughtfully. "So you'll come runnin' if I need you, huh?"

"If you're drunk and you need to get somewhere, sure," Eli replies. "But I have a life, so don't expect me to just drop everything just to help pay your bar tab or stalk civilians."

"I need to ask you properly for a social visit, huh," he sighs.

When they'd first met, Eli hadn't wanted to know anything about Jacob, much less what he would count as a "social visit."  What does a guy like him do for fun? He realizes that he doesn't know, but he might actually want to find out.  Hell, that's why he's here tonight - because he'd wanted to spend time with Jacob.  "I... yeah," he says, realizing that he's the one staring at Jacob like a slack-jawed yokel now. "I might not be as good at scaring the shit out of Zip, though."

Jacob shakes his head, his smile souring slightly. "Nah. He's had enough."  He reaches out with a lazy hand, aiming for Eli's shoulder but settling for his forearm instead.  Eli doesn't know what's happening until he's being pulled from his seat; he staggers to keep his balance, Jacob forcing him forward with an insistent pull. He doesn't know where Jacob wants him to go, what he wants him to do, although a few different thoughts rush through his mind as he tips forward, each one crazier than the last. Eli manages to catch his weight by grabbing the back of the chair; Jacob's grip loosens on Eli's arm, but he doesn't let go. He's sunk low enough that Eli is practically looming over him, his knee braced against the armrest stuck between them.

"Just wanted another drink," Jacob says, and Eli can't help but think his voice is huskier than it was before.

"Maybe you've had enough," Eli suggests, although he suddenly feels like he could use another beer himself. He's close enough to see the crows-feet growing beside Jacob's eyes as he starts to grin, and he thinks maybe another drink would be a very bad idea, although he's not in the mood to unpack _why_.

"Hmm," Jacob murmurs. "Maybe." He shifts under Eli, who realizes he hasn't moved, still hovering.

"How about you get some sleep instead," he suggests, his voice scratching in his throat. He hopes Jacob doesn't notice it, or think about it too much. "Sooner you do, sooner you can live through the hangover you deserve."

"Dick," Jacob chuckles, but he nods in agreement all the same. "Might need a hand."

It turns out that Jacob needs more than just a hand - he needs Eli's help out of the chair, and then his help to open the trailer door, and he has to lean against Eli as they tackle the stairs.  The inside of Jacob's trailer is... pretty bad, honestly; teak wood cabinetry with oak paneling on the walls, green, threadbare carpet and awful, gray and blue cushions on the very ugly beige couch.  Either Jacob has no taste whatsoever, or he bought the tackiest camper in Montana.

"God, this is awful to look at," Eli jokes as Jacob takes a breather against the teak kitchen counters. Jacob makes a face in return, but he doesn't mind the ribbing as much as Eli might've expected him to. "I feel like we just warped back to the mid-nineties. Did this thing come with the ugly upholstery, or was that _your_ idea?"

"It's kitschy," Jacob defends, too weakly to hold up against even Eli's very gentle ribbing. "I haven't gotten around to fixing it up."

"I know that one," Eli chuckles. "C'mon. Let's get you to bed."

He helps Jacob make it across the no man's land where there's nothing to lean on, following behind as he pushes the door to the bedroom open and unceremoniously drops onto the edge of the mattress. It's not decked out in the same nineties "kitsch" the rest of the camper is; Jacob seems to be doing just fine with a couple of fleece blankets and a fitted sheet.  The bed itself takes up most of the space dedicated to it, although there is a small table stacked with radios and receivers tucked into the corner.

It becomes clear almost immediately that Jacob is too far gone to function when he manages to double-knot his bootlaces instead of untying them. "Oh my God," Eli laughs, sitting on his knees to help the poor idiot out. "You're as much of a mess as I am."

"Definitely more," Jacob rumbles, leaning over to watch Eli work without getting too in the way. It mostly works, and Eli gets Jacob's boots off without knocking into his chin. When he climbs back to his feet, Jacob falls backward onto the bed, leaving him standing between Jacob's knees.  He meets Jacob's eyes and then wishes he hadn't, because Jacob is giving him a look that turns the tiny room into something claustrophobic, desperation charging the small space like static electricity.

Jacob swallows thickly, then reaches out, grabbing Eli by the wrist. "Been thinking about you," he says, another line cut from an earlier conversation, but the miserable way he says it puts hot lead into Eli's gut. This is no joke - it's a confession as raw as a dropped egg, spilled out all over the floor where one of them is going to have clean it up.  Unfortunately, Eli is the only one sober enough for the responsibility.

"I'm not sure how to take that," Eli replies. He tries to be diplomatic about it, but he can hear the truth in his own damn voice - he knows _exactly_ how to take it. He clears his throat, trying to ignore Jacob's warm fingers wrapped around his wrist, but he feels like he's just making this into an even bigger mess.

"Whichever way doesn't scare you off," Jacob tells him. His grip tightens, like just saying that much will make Eli bolt, and then he lets go entirely, rolling over in the bed to try and avoid the same conversation he started. "I don't care."

Eli stares down at the back of Jacob's head, following the expanse of scars to his hairline. He doubts Jacob doesn't care, but he doesn't know what he can say to make things right for him. For either of them. This situation is so far out of Eli's depth that he might as well be drowning in the Pacific.

In the end, the truth is the only tool Eli has to use, even if it's just to put them in a holding pattern until Jacob sobers up. Until Eli figures out what he wants to do about this. "I think we're going to have to revisit this one day when you're not so drunk you can't take off your own shoes," he says. He reaches out to touch Jacob's shoulder, then thinks better of it when he sees the tense lines in his back. "But... for the record, if you can't scare me off your property with a buck knife and death glare, _this_ definitely isn't going to do it."

Jacob sighs, but doesn't respond. Eli stands there for a solid minute before he realizes that Jacob has actually passed out. He knows he should leave immediately, lock up after himself and get home before Jacob wakes up and possibly remembers their last conversation. He should go home and hope that they can both forget about that sad, miserable admission. Hope that he can look Jacob in the eye and have an answer for him that's better than a fucking holding pattern.

Eli leaves before his loitering becomes creepy, making sure to latch the door behind him. Jacob's dog is waiting by the abandoned chair, lifting his head to watch Eli before yawning and disregarding him as he makes his way back home. Eli's sure it must be the beer, but he can still feel hot spots on his arms where Jacob's hands had touched him. There's an electric jolt, frightened and anxious and strangely, wildly hopeful, and it kicks behind his ribs every time he repeats the confession.

_Been thinking about you._

_Been thinking about you_.

And, Lord, hasn't Eli been thinking about Jacob, too?


	4. it's the nike brand slogan for a reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli needs reasonable advice for the modern man; he winds up getting anecdotal evidence that "just doing it" doesn't always go horribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright motherfuckers welcome to the thunder dome  
> im real bad at titles and even worse at keeping up with fic updates so just take this, take it and run, and don't stop until i post another chapter. then, like, come back and read that, ok???
> 
> as usual, if you like this please feel free to copy that link and paste it all over the place. or, even better, if you like, you should totally write your own eli/jacob fic! draw some art! bring this pairing into the light my dudes, and link me to it so i can enjoy it as much as i want you all to enjoy this fic!!
> 
> oh lastly, i edited the last line of the previous chapter because it bugged me. ANYWAY COMMENT AND SHARE MY DUDES

It's busy but not crowded at the diner Eli and Jess meet for lunch at. They've taken the back booth on the furthest side from everybody else, which has kept the waiter mostly out of their way, and the rush has enough chatter to convince Eli nobody's eavesdropping. In fact, aside from a few curious glances when they'd first come in, most everybody is fine pretending they don't exist back here. It _should_ make talking about his feelings less stressful, but every time he says Jacob's name, Jess rolls her eyes, and it doesn't do much for his confidence. It's definitely no good that everything involving Jacob feels embarrassing to talk about; from arguing, to needing rescue from his own roof, to worrying over him when he can take care of himself, it's all mortifying to admit to. The only thing that gets him through is the fact that it's Jess he's talking to.

"I figured you'd start a blood feud over some dude moving into your territory," Jess speaks up at last, as one of Eli's pauses becomes permanent. "Guess this is _sorta_ similar."

She steals one of Eli's fries, which he allows. He has to - after all, Jess is the one sitting here listening to him hem and haw like a freshman before Sadie Hawkins. That's how it _feels_ , anyways; Eli is a bundle of nerves, jogging his foot in a near-constant rhythm he's sure is bothering customers on the other side of the diner, picking at his food more than eating it, torn between panicked nausea and the sort of nausea that comes from a crush acknowledging your existence. He probably should have reached out to someone before he got this bad, but instead, he'd worked himself up over two days, during which Jacob didn't so much as text thanks for untying his stupid boots.

He probably would have gone another two days without reaching out for help if Jess hadn't hit him up out of boredom. She's practically a Hope county cryptid: hard to catch a glimpse of and even harder to communicate with, since she goes through burner phones like a fugitive on the run. Still, her advice is always honest and she keeps secrets like an iron lock-box, and that's exactly what Eli needs right now. That's why he's here, paying for Jess's two hamburgers while she lets him unload his problem on her. She's scoffed and rolled her eyes plenty, but that really is just Jess.

"That's not how blood feuds work, and _this_ is nothing like a blood feud. And anyway, why would you think _that_?"

"You've been working on your 'grim, isolated mountain man' thing for, like, two years now. I figured you'd be pissed to have to share the role. Especially with some whack-job Seed brother - you hear what he did to Zip?"

"Let's face it, Zip's needed to learn a lesson about his crazy conspiracy theories for a while." Jess scrunches her nose in judgment, so he admits, "Okay, _yeah_ , I agree, it was a dick move. But I'm not trying to... what, have some weird isolationist persona or something. I've just been... y'know. I'm not the kind of guy to go starting fights for the hell of it."

_Except_ , shit, he totally is. That's why he's in this situation to begin with - because he'd been the aggro, isolated mountain man who charged recklessly into a situation that he'd fully expected to end in violence. He runs his hands through his hair, which just reminds him that he hasn't really shaved or cut his hair in over a year, which is _definitely_ not helping his case. No _wonder_ people have been leaving him well enough alone.  He's just lucky Jacob isn't phased by any of it.

Jess, as unreassuringly as ever, tries to reassure him. "Hey, it turns out gross doomsday prepper is what turns your neighbor on, so it worked out."

" _Lord_."

Eli, distracted by his own mortification, can't stop Jess from taking advantage of his open plate of fries. He wishes he could have some himself, but there's no way his stomach is going to hold real food until he's settled down. If someone had asked him a year ago what he'd do if an intimidating, weirdly attractive man showed an interest in him, he'd have laughed and said thanks, but no thanks. But _that_ Eli is entirely hypothetical, and the real Eli is full of electric sparks and unsettled guts at the prospect.

"I'm so fucked," he sighs.

"Not yet," Jess replies. She flags down the waiter on shift for another pop and a plate of chicken strips, which keeps Eli from telling her off for getting gross about his maybe-relationship with Jacob. With her order on the way to the kitchen, she preempts his complaints of paying for four full lunches by saying, "Sounds like you already know what you wanna do."

Which shuts Eli up, because she's not _wrong_. It's just, well. "Knowing and, uh, acting, are two very different things."

Jess nods skeptically. "I _guess_."

"I mean, what if I'm wrong? Or what if it was something he'd only admit to drunk, and I make things worse?"

"Worse than you ghosting him after he told you he's obsessed with you?"

"I'm _not -_ oh, goddamn it, I _am_." Eli has to force his head not to drop into his own food, cupping his eyes with his hands to mitigate his embarrassment. "I can't believe I'm so bad at this."

"This is why I get a new phone number every three months," Jess says with a shrug.  "Nobody's going to flip a switch in you, man. You're either gonna go for it, or you're not."

As usual, Jess's advice is right on the money, but practically impossible for Eli to act on. "I haven't been interested in dating since - shit, since before I got married. Now I'm getting nervous over some jackass ginger _man_ and it's - it's overwhelming, Jess. What if I'm just... starved for attention or something? Someone shows interest in me for the first time in years, and maybe I'm just reacting like this because I'll take anything? The guy isn't even my _type_."

"You _have_ a type?" Jess asks, the way a debate team might ask a particularly challenging question.

Which is exactly what it is. "I, uh. I guess? No? I don't know, Jess, that's why I'm in this position!"

The waiter delivers Jess's chicken strips. Once he's gone, she takes one and works to shove the entire thing into her mouth dry, without even so much as some goddamn ketchup. "Might be someone who can help," she says, doing her best to make sure Eli sees her open-mouthed chewing.

Eli fully expects some kind of _your mom_ joke when he asks "who?", but all he gets is a hand waved in his face while Jess pulls out her phone. "Wait, who are you calling?" he asks, much more urgently, but it's way too late to stop her.

He sinks down into the booth while she holds her phone out between them. The ringer is too loud, but nobody looks over to judge them for making a call on speaker phone. Between Eli's unwitting antisocial cues and Jess's very deliberate ones, nobody is particularly inclined to pay them much attention.  Still, Eli's nerves have been shredded and he's just, well, trying to keep control of himself.

Tinny, ear-aching Bee-Gees takes the place of the ringer, so loud that Jess actually lowers the volume with an apologetic glance Eli's way. Sharky is either in a room with wall-to-wall stereos or else has his sound system up enough to get the police called on him in the middle of goddamn nowhere. There's no doubt that it's Sharky Jess decided to call, and he's quick to shout in his gravelly voice, "JESS, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

"TURN YOUR GODDAMN MUSIC DOWN," Jess hollers back, and Eli ducks his head to avoid the heads that briefly turn in their direction. Thankfully, being Jess and Eli goes a long way towards keeping people out of their business, so all he has to hope is that Sharky has a quiet place to talk. He doesn't think their reputations will save them if everyone in the diner hears that he's interested in a man, _especially_ one of the Seed brothers.  The way the town has been talking about them, they'd probably take it as a slight against his own hometown.

Instead of turning it down, which would be probably easier, Sharky casually narrates the journey he takes from his "listening room" (whatever _that_ means) to his "den", which has the same acoustics as a bathroom might. At least the music is mostly muffled once he shuts the door, and his voice reaches a more manageable decibel when he next talks. "What can I do for you, Robin Hood?"

"God, I hate it when you call me that," Jess grumbles, but Eli is _pretty sure_ that's a smile on her face. She glares at him as soon as he sees it, but _he_ isn't scared of her reputation. "I got Eli here -"

"Oh, hey Eli," Sharky says, cutting her off, "Man, if y'all are thinking about goin' drinkin' well, I'd love to but one of you's gonna have to front me, 'cos my paycheck's, uh, nonexistent -"

Eli grins despite himself; he's pretty sure drinking with Sharky is a guaranteed way to end your night in the county jail. Jess just rolls her eyes and cuts him off herself. "No, you idiot, nobody wants to pay for you to get hammered and set the bar on fire. He and I are just having a..." She pauses and actually looks at Eli like she's waiting for his permission to talk about this _now_. As usual, better in theory than practice, but at least she's trying.

He shrugs; if Jess is comfortable turning to him, then Eli isn't going to worry about what Sharky's going to think. "I'm having a sort of, uh... crisis?" He is _definitely_ sure that's not the right word, but that's the only one that comes to mind. "I guess Jess thought you could help?"

"Yeah," Jess says, ruining Eli's fragile confidence as she asks, "What'd you do when Xander told you he wanted to fuck you?"

Sharky chokes audibly on the line. "Uhhhhhh," he says, "Are you somewhere public right now?"

"Would I do that to you?" Jess asks.

"I... don't know. Maybe? Whatever. Why are you bringing _him_ up?"

Eli covers his face with his hands so he doesn't have to bear witness to this conversation, which has become honestly too mortifying for words. The _last thing_ Eli needs to know about is the weird Drubman family dynamics going on over by the Henbane. He must've done something to offend Jess recently, that's the only explanation for this. Did he forget her birthday or something?

"Just answer the damn question."

"Well..." Sharky sighs, clearing his throat in preparation for what Eli suspects is not a very good story. "I was over at the Marina, you know, talkin' to Addie again, or just, uh... hanging around..." Jess mouths something derogatory that Sharky would probably take offense to. "Anyway, Xander comes up to me, swayin', slurrin', actin' all funny, and he starts touchin' my hat, like, askin' me if I ever take it off, if he can touch my hair... uh... Huh, I haven't thought about this in a while. Why am I talkin' about Xander again?"

"What did you _do_ ," Jess demands, trying to keep him focused, which isn't exactly better than him circling aimlessly around the subject.

"I, uh, well... said, you know. No thanks, that I was... flattered, and all, but I'm straight, so... He was pretty insistent though, so, like. You know. I mean, have you _seen_ that guy?"

Eli _knows_ Sharky is talking to him specifically, but he refuses to answer. "And that worked out okay, right?" Jess asks, snapping her fingers to draw both of their attentions back to her.

Sharky laughs in disbelief. "I mean, _yeah_. Yeah, it was, like, a learning experience, but - man, you know, I never called him, you think he's mad about that?" For a long four seconds, Sharky is strangely silent, leaving just the bassline from _Stayin' Alive_ thumping in the background. "Nah, he's probably fine. Anyway, why're we talkin' about this?"

"I'm using you to prove a point," Jess tells him. "Eli's got the hots for some dude and we're telling him to go for it."

"We are? It's not Xander, right? Don't do it, dude, he gives sloppy blowjobs, drools everywhere, and he aims for your eye when he -"

Eli would be okay if this entire day turned out to be a fever dream, honestly. " _No,_ Sharky, I'm not interested in Xander."

"Okay, cool." Sharky is quiet for another few seconds. "Well, man, I'll tell you, you're a good dude, and if you wanna hit it up with another dude, then it's all good. Nothin' wrong with it, and the way I figure, you deserve some good shit, so, uh. You know. Fuck it."

It's strangely warm sentiment from a guy who Eli barely knows, and Jess immediately ruins it by saying, "It's Jacob Seed."

"That guy is a fucking _asshole_ , did you hear what he did to Zip, man? That guy's _the worst_."

"I guess I have bad taste," Eli sighs, defeated, "Because I don't think he's that bad at all." After all, sure, Jacob _is_ an asshole; an arrogant, cocky jerk whose presence alone can suck all the air out of Eli's lungs. He's intense to be around, and he can be enough of an ass that sometimes Eli would rather punch him than talk, but that doesn't mean anything in a place like Hope county, where every man is an arrogant asshole with more guns than sense. It especially doesn't count when Eli knows he can depend on Jacob - since the whole roof disaster, he's only had to ask once for Jacob to lend a hand on any two-person jobs Eli needs to do around the house. Even when he needs help doing things Jacob doesn't know how to do, he just absorbs instructions like a sponge and takes feedback without complaint. And his lopsided grin triggers an instantaneous reaction in Eli, one that eases his nerves and winds him up all at once.

"Don't listen to me, my opinion is shit," Sharky is saying, but Eli's already moved well past whatever it was Sharky had said to begin with. Something about Jacob being the worst - well, tell somebody who doesn't know, right?

Eli shakes his head, chuckling. "Sharky, you've - been a big help, strangely enough. Jess, if you're gonna get anything else, now's the time, 'cos I gotta get the check."

"Aw, _come on_ ," Sharky groans, "You said you guys weren't somewhere public!"

"Nobody's listening, it's cool," Jess replies. "I'll see you later." Sharky doesn't even get to say goodbye as Jess immediately hangs up, dropping the phone like a brick onto the table. "So you're gonna listen now, huh?"

Eli offers her a somewhat repentant grin. "Fuck it, right?"

"Assuming you're not wrong," she... sort of agrees, grinning as Eli scowls. "You're a grown-ass man, Eli, I think you can handle asking some dude if he wants to do you. Or _whatever_ ," she adds as he continues to frown at her, "Ask him to prom, or the roller rink, or whatever losers like you do when they wanna bone someone."

Jess has a _lot_ of ideas about what they can do for a first date, and she lists them in order of absurdity while Eli gets the check, ending with, "You can eat food outta each other's beards," as they step out of the diner and back into the still afternoon air.

"Jesus, Jess," Eli laughs, "I'm starting to think you don't like my beard."

"I think birds might like it. Y'know, for a nest."

His pickup is sitting alone in the corner, and the two of them wander in that direction. "You wanna lift?" Eli asks, "I don't have anywhere to be."

"Nah, I think I'm gonna take a walk." Jess gestures towards the woods behind the diner as though she's just a few blocks from home. "Besides, I think you've got a text to send, you huge fucking nerd."

She's right about that, although Eli doesn't let Jess leave him without a hug, one that she reluctantly returns before wandering off to disappear into the forest like Bigfoot. Eli watches her go and makes a mental note to check in on her soon.  He's been a pretty shitty friend lately, dealing with his own bullshit, but Jess has been through worse than him by a landslide, and she deserves his shoulder to lean on now and again.  Even if she refuses the help, he just wants her to know that he gets what it's like to have time bisected into life Before and life After.  After things get sorted between Jacob and him, Eli will reach out again.

Eli sits in the cab with his windows down for a good five minutes as he words and re-words a text to Jacob. He doesn't know if he should apologize for the radio silence, or mention the other night at all, and every time he types out the words _get a drink_ his face burns until he deletes the whole message. Eventually, with Jess and Sharky's voices in his head exclaiming, _fuck it, man!_ , Eli forces himself to tap out the barest minimum needed, hitting send before he can stop himself. He chants _fuck_ a couple of times and struggles to turn the key in the ignition, but once the engine roars to life and his phone is tucked in the glove box, his heart-rate returns to something more manageable.

That doesn't last long, as his phone starts to buzz almost as soon as he pulls onto the road. He's only twenty minutes from home, but it feels like it takes forever as Eli is forced to listen to his phone fill up with unchecked messages. He can't imagine they're all from Jacob, but nobody else texts him these days, and if they're from Jacob then what the hell are they about? How many texts does it take to turn someone down for drinks? Would he really be that offended by it, or weirded out by Eli's silence, or _what_?

He barely gets his nerves in check by the time he pulls up in his driveway, and nothing can stop him from lunging for the glove box as soon as he's in park. It's a welcome surprise when he finds the texts are from a number he doesn't know; what he'd thought were dozens of messages doesn't even reach double digits, and he lets himself breathe a sigh of relief as he reads them.

> _(406) hey buddy its jr here (hurk jr) my cuz sharkie txtd me aboutt ur situation n just wanted me 2 send u a pearl or 2 of wisdom since I been around the world n ive seen some shit that puts all this life into perspective u kno_
> 
> _(406) we never know where lifes gonna take us but eventually we all gotta take a leap of faith every once n a while_
> 
> _(406) thats advice thats good 4 relationships n jumpin off sick waterfalls_
> 
> _(406) also u miss 100% of the shots u dont take_
> 
> _(406) if u need more help just let me know bro! I got plenty of them adages_

Along with those words of support is a two-part message of web resources for things Eli hadn't even thought of yet. It's helpful and supportive, but most of all overwhelming. Before he can formulate a response - one that implies he's thankful for the first-time sex guides without outright _saying_ it - another text comes in; this one in direct response to the one Eli had sent just twenty minutes ago. His heart leaps into his throat and his thumbs automatically pull up his conversation with Jacob, his breath trapped in his chest even after he reads:

> _(406) Hey. Want to get drinks tonight?_
> 
> _(762) Sure. 6?_

"Oh, Lord," Eli gasps, of course typing out, _Yeah, sounds good,_ as though it's no big deal, as though he doesn't spent an entire minute debating on a damned exclamation point. Jacob sends a picture of Rambo with a branch the size and length of Jacob's arm in his mouth, close enough to bump leaves against the phone. Eli stares at it for too long to be healthy, and then throws his eyes upwards and says, " _Lord_ ," one final time before all but throwing himself out of his car. He has forty-eight hours of anxiety to bring down in the next four hours, and considering he'd freaked out over sending the simplest text in the history of texting, he has his work cut out for him. Well... at least if this doesn't work out, he has a bunker he can go live the rest of his life in.


	5. keep it light you bitch!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only real problem with Jacob and Eli's first date is how John likes to just insert himself into his brother's life without thinking about the consequences. Oh well!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i cant even come up with a title so i just picked the first dennis reynolds quote to come to mind lmfao
> 
> this chapter is the longest so far!!! i'm excited to have you guys meet my version of john, because to me john is the worst brother and therefore the best brother. eli doesn't like him but that's ok, it's not like it will ever ever ever come up again right :) :) :)
> 
> the next chapter will be probably up sometime before the end of october, although i will totally admit that if it isn't, you might not be seeing updates until after november.

Eli's surprised when Jacob shows up to his place right on time, arriving on foot and wearing the same olive flannel he'd been wearing the other night, with a clean undershirt and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He waits patiently on the porch while Eli searches for his keys, and gives Eli that smile he likes so much once he's ready to go. "Figured people might like it better if you do the driving."

"You could drive like less of an ass," Eli offers in response. Jacob only laughs at the idea, the sound warm enough to put some heat into Eli's face. Before Jacob had shown up, Eli had miserably entertained the idea that he's blowing things out of proportion, that he'd realize too late that he's just misplacing affection like some kind of idiot.  But all those doubts are sandblasted away by the rumble of Jacob's laugh - he'd have to be an idiot to miss the way his pulse spikes, and a bigger one to write it off as something platonic.

The drive into Fall's End is quiet and relatively quick. They don't talk about much of anything on the way there; Jacob seems to enjoy the silence, watching the passing scenery in contemplation. That's just fine by Eli, who would rather wait until the bar to risk making a verbal ass of himself.  Instead, he hands over control of the radio to Jacob and watches as he flips around the static-filled stations.  There aren't a lot of choices, but Eli decides to read into it anyway when Jacob stops on a station playing crooning love songs from the 60's.

The town isn't exactly busy - when is it ever really busy in Hope County? - but Eli has to park on the dirt shoulder next to the Spread Eagle, as the front spaces are all taken. He hadn't thought about how busy the bar could get on a Thursday evening. He meets Jacob on his side of the truck cab and catches him taking in the packed lot somewhat apprehensively, hands jammed deep in his pockets. If Eli didn't know better, he'd say Jacob is nervous. "Don't worry," Eli says with a grin, tilting his head towards the bar. "I'll have your back if a fight breaks out."

"I might've made a bad impression last time I was here." He tries to sound nonchalant about it, but Eli can hear the edge in his voice.

"You, a bad impression?" Eli meets Jacob's sullen glare with a grin. "Hey, believe me, it takes more than messing with Zip to get you cut off around here." That doesn't seem to reassure Jacob all that much, which is unsurprising, really, with how much of a skeptical ass Jacob is. "If we get kicked out, then it'll just be an opportunity to show you the best places get hammered around Hope County. There's a pretty decent bridge on the way out of Fall's End..."

Jacob laughs, startled at the idea, and he's distracted from his nerves enough that when Eli walks, he follows without hesitation. "Under a _bridge_ , Palmer?"

"Well, it worked in high school," Eli replies, "Can't hear shit from a car passing over, and the incline is pretty steep, so cops never bothered getting out of their cruisers to check."

"I'll be damned," Jacob chuckles, giving Eli a skeptical side-eye when he holds the door for him. "Here I was, thinking I was gonna be a bad influence on you. Shame, I was looking forward to that."

"I'm great at influencing myself to do dumb shit, thank you very much."

The Spread Eagle isn't truly busy until Saturday night, but that doesn't mean it isn't lively tonight. Eli recognizes a few familiar faces as he scans the crowd, but all he's really looking for is the least crowded spot in the room. Mary May is the first one to recognize him back, meeting his eyes after giving Jacob a serious ocular pat-down, and Eli leads Jacob in, pressing up against the bar. He leaves plenty of space next to him, but Jacob's hip presses into his as he settles himself in at Eli's side.

"Eli Palmer," Mary May greets, "It's been a while since we saw you around here."

"Sorry about that," Eli says, an apology he knows she doesn't need. "It's hard to get out of the mountains lately."

Mary May eyeballs Jacob again, offering a noncommittal hum in agreement. "Plenty of space for you, Eli. Here." She turns and pours two drafts, full enough that they spill over onto the bar-top as she sets them down. "On the house, so long as you keep that one on a leash."

Considering the way she's pointing is pretty rude, Eli's surprised when Jacob only smiles pleasantly in response. "Best behavior, ma'am," he says, which earns him a distrustful nose-wrinkle in return. He tags close behind Eli as they move away from the bar with their beers; close enough that Eli's sure someone is going to get the wrong idea, or would if anybody cared to look their way. As it is, he's mostly concerned that Jess and Sharky might decide to spy on him; he's not sure Sharky would be up to it on his own, but if Jess felt inclined to snoop, the prospect of free drinks would definitely be enough to bring him along.

"You looking for somebody?" Jacob asks, because Eli is, _of course_ , being too goddamn obvious about keeping an eye out for trouble. He asks it like he's joking, but Eli doesn't miss the underlying tension in his jaw. He probably looks like an asshole, that's for sure. Like he's worried somebody's going to recognize him getting drinks with Jacob for what it is, or at least what Eli's aiming at it being.  The joke is, if that were the case, Eli wouldn't have picked Mary May's place.  He's known her for most of her life, and he knows first-hand how goddamn observant she is.  If she didn't pick up on the intense lack of personal space between them at the bar, Eli's certain she'll have figured out his game by the end of the night. 

"Nah," Eli says, watching Jacob's mouth twitch as he tries to decide whether or not to be offended by Eli's distraction. "Why, jealous my attention isn't all on you?"

Jacob lifts his beer, smiling again at last.  "I've been told that I can be possessive," he drawls.  While he takes a drink, Eli thinks about all those times Jacob had loomed somewhat menacingly, pressing the personal space out between them.  Pinning Eli against the ladder, muscled arms caging him in on either side.  He's used to being the protector, the one with all the physical strength, but from the way his gut twists at the thought of Jacob bearing in on him, it looks like he's not going to have much trouble adjusting.  Possessive, he says?  Good - turns out, Eli is very interested in being possessed.

Jacob is looking at Eli like he wants to say something, smile faint and more aware of Eli's thoughts than he might want to let on, but it's only after he takes another drink that he opens up. "I honestly thought you might...  Not want to talk again, after I made a mess of myself the other night. I'm not like that, usually - and I know, _I know_ , that's what everyone says..."

Eli wants to play it off, honestly happy to forgive and forget just this once, but Jacob's tone is severe enough that it warrants serious consideration. "We all have shitty nights, Jacob," he says. "I wouldn't have asked you out for drinks if I thought it would lead to another night of putting you to bed like a lush uncle."

Jacob shifts in surprise at the words. He polishes off his beer impressively quick, the back of his neck flushed by the time he sets the glass back on the table. "Yeah, not my finest moment. Glad you're willing to look past it."

"I won't judge you if you don't judge me," Eli offers, which Jacob accepts with an agreeable nod. "Of course, if you wanna foot the bill for tonight, as a thank you..."

He's mostly joking, but it's a nice surprise when Jacob doesn't so much as put up a fight about it.  "Sounds like the neighborly thing to do."

Considering that there's not much Eli knows about Jacob, it's easy to find things to talk about.  As the conversation moves away from that awkward night towards friendlier topics, Eli leaps at the chance to learn more about the man he's been sucked in by.  Jacob doesn't mind answering, for the most part; he's not cagey about moving from Georgia, or the fact that he made the move with his two brothers, but he keeps his answers focused on the bigger picture and avoids the details.  He glosses over his own teenage history, rubbing absently at the scars crossing his jaw, and although he's willing to admit he served a couple of tours during the Gulf War, he's vague on everything from branch to division.  It's fine, though - Eli doesn't need to know all the deep, dark bits.  Maybe sometime, there'll be a less edited version that Eli can learn, but for now, he's fine with the small stuff.

Like, for example, when his age comes up, Jacob mumbles, "Just turned 47," as though it's something to be embarrassed about. The truth is that Eli had already pegged him for being over 40 - if he'd cared, it would have come up sooner than now.

"31," Eli says, waving both facts away with a nonchalant gesture.  "But I've heard the beard adds ten years."

He tries hard not to squirm when Jacob openly appraises him, managing to only shift around in his seat a little under the intensity of his gaze.  He wonders if Jacob _does_ like his beard like Jess kept teasing, or if it's one of those things you just accept about a person because you know you have no control over it?  Shit, _Eli_ barely likes it; it just sort of happened, growing out while he kept on ignoring everything around him.

"No," Jacob finally says, "It's good.  I never could grow my hair long.  Between the military and," he gestures vaguely at the scars dotting his face, "Just never was that easy.  This much took me a year.  Two, maybe.  I haven't shaved in a while.  Got used to not doing it, so now I only get around to it when somebody complains."

"Who's complaining about that?" Eli asks, but Jacob only gives him a wry, knowing smile.  He offers to get the next round, "since I'm buying, and all," and Eli is hard pressed to let the offer go.  When Eli had taken the seat facing away from the bar, though, he hadn't expected Jacob to be the one making trips back and forth to it, so now he's stuck staring at the empty side of the table, while Mary May and Jacob chat out of his line of sight.  Well - mostly.  He has to shift a bit, but he manages to sit somewhat sideways in his chair, leaning casually with the last bit of his drink.  It's a miracle he doesn't slip out of his chair but somehow he manages, casting a more confidently casual eye towards the bar now that he's got a decent view.

Mary May has most certainly seen him wiggling around in his chair like a toddler.  Jacob is saying something to her, maybe ordering, but her head swivels in Eli's direction every other word; if she keeps it up, there's no doubt Jacob will pick up on it. The worst part is that he has no guarantee she won't say something.  At least with Drew, Eli has enough high school blackmail to keep his mouth shut - Mary May, on the other hand, is wiser, smarter, and less prone to bullshit than her brother, and Eli has nothing on her.

Jacob looks over and meets Eli's gaze before he has a chance to turn back around.  Eli can taste the smugness from here, and he most definitely hears Jacob's rumbling laughter as Mary May says something, setting two glasses down in front of him.  Now _neither_ of them are looking at him, and he's sure the jig is up, shifting in his seat to wait awkwardly for Jacob to get back to the table.

"What did she say?" Eli asks when Jacob sits down.  There's no reason to hide his curiosity now that Jacob's caught him gawking, although maybe he could sound less petulant about it.

Jacob looks theatrically confused.  "Don't know what you're talking about," he drawls.  Well, goddamn him too.

The conversation shifts, and Eli lets it go as they talk about hunting and fishing, and all the other hobbies and activities that make living in Montana worth it.  Jacob has a lot of questions about prepping, and although Eli's not ready to tell the guy he has his own bunker, hand-built and always stocked, he's willing to let on that he knows a lot about the lifestyle.  The last thing he needs is for Jacob to think he's some kind of weird, doomsday prophet, ready for a nuclear apocalypse - just because he sort of _is_ one, doesn't mean Jacob needs to know that right _now_.

Jacob's eyes, scanning the bar beyond, seem to land on something unfortunate. He scowls briefly, sighing under his breath, "Fuck me. Don't look, but my brother's coming this way."

Eli barely has to turn to see a stocky, handsome man in moderately expensive clothes weaving past the group by the bar. It's kind of a shock to see him and realize that _he's_ Jacob's brother - not as tall as him, with dark hair and a carefully coordinated outfit - but when John sees Eli staring, he smiles that same, full-toothed grin Jacob had given Mary May, and there's no mistaking the relation. It's not nearly as charming on him, of course, but Eli might be biased.

"I said _don't_ look," Jacob groans.

"You knew I was gonna the second you said not to."

Jacob rolls his eyes and forcibly contains an exasperated sigh as his brother reaches their table. "Well, well," he says, in a voice that Eli recognizes from the other night almost immediately, "Two trips down the mountain in a week, Jacob? People might think you're attention-starved."

"Do better," Jacob orders.

John blinks, then pretends to notice Eli sitting there for the first time. His smirk sours a bit and he clears his throat. "It's good to see you _socializing_ _like a normal person,_ " he sighs. From the exasperation in his voice alone, Eli easily pegs John as Jacob's youngest brother. He also pegs him for an ass, but that's probably genetic.

"That's _better_?" Jacob replies, equally exasperated. He glances at Eli apologetically, then gestures between him and John. "Eli, John. John, Eli."

"Amazing," John enthuses, more than a little sarcastically. "Somebody Jacob actually wants me to know. This I _have_ to see." Neither of them have time to stop John from taking a seat, although Jacob looks like he wishes he did. Eli can't say he's excited to have the interruption, but it might be better to get this out of the way now; he should probably at least introduce himself to Jacob's brothers before he starts trying to date him. "It's impressive that you managed to bring him out of hiding," John offers mildly. "Brave, even, considering how last time went."

Jacob grunts. John's eyes dart in his direction, but Eli intends to keep this conversation light and pleasant, so he only chuckles. "He promised Mary May he'd be on his best behavior," he says, gesturing to Jacob and earning an appreciative glance in return.

John doesn't look so convinced. "And you trust him," he scoffs.

"Yeah, I do."

"That's a bad idea," Jacob points out, obviously trying to be a contradictory ass.

"It's too late; you're already paying, so I'm in for the long haul."

John, apparently surprised to hear Jacob's the one footing the bill, momentarily breaks the weird, aggressive persona he's adopted, just a bit, regarding his brother with surprise. Jacob's wry smile doesn't give anything away to Eli, but it manages to bring some kind of genuine affection to John's expression - not quite a smile, but close. "What a gentleman," he says, rolling his eyes back over towards Eli. "Seems like my brother has taken quite a liking to you, Eli." Before Eli can break down why the way John says his name makes him uncomfortable, he's moving on with an upbeat smile and an offer to buy the next round ("or so"), "Since I'm nosing my way in again."

It's while John's off to the bar that Jacob speaks up. "So, John's going to try and get a rise out of the both of us for as long as he's sitting here." He seems apologetic about it, the way someone might apologize for rainy weather. "He's, uh, around your age," he admits right off the bat, plowing on ahead before he can let his embarrassment get the best of him. "Most of the stuff you might've heard about him is true. Lawyer out of Atlanta, taking some time off out here with us..."

"I've mostly just heard he's an asshole," Eli responds.  Jacob rolls his eyes as though he's completely unsurprised.

"Yeah, that too. He's - hmm." Jacob's jaw works for a moment as he looks up from their conversation, probably watching John over at the bar. "He's trying to work on it," he offers at last. "Both of us are. He's coming back - alright. He lives on the ranch outside of Fall's End, doesn't own a plane but has his pilot's license, dislikes vegetarians, _hates_ the outdoors, and - oh."

Jacob leans back, just a bit, and Eli feels John's approach even without turning to look. Something about the way John and Jacob carry themselves makes them impossible to miss; they sound off their own proximity alerts. "I was just telling Eli about the ranch," Jacob says as John comes back to the table, carrying all three drinks with no trouble.

"Is that so," John replies, to calmly to be anything but skeptical. "Why would you be talking about _my_ place, when you have a perfectly good shack of your own?"

"Well, Eli's a contractor." He reaches for his drink with a brief nod of appreciation in John's direction, ignoring the jab about his trailer entirely. "With everything you want to do to the place, might be smart to hire locally."

John's unimpressed, "Uh-huh," doesn't phase Jacob any, and Eli quickly grabs the conversation before it gets side-tracked by brotherly bickering.

"I've only ever seen the place once, back when it was built," he says. "Seemed solid then, but that was..."

"Twenty years ago," John supplies.  "The height of 90's modernization.  Overstuffed wicker furniture, hunter green master suite with teak cabinets - and yet it still has an _intercom_ system from the 80's."

"Does it work?"

"If it worked, I wouldn't be _complaining_."

It's easy from there. Eli knows the electrician that installed the thing, so of course he can help there. And he knows all about the details of the projects John suggests, or at least knows somebody else with the expertise. When the opportunity arises to talk about the hangar, Eli knows to leap on the possibility of planes.  Even though John consistently gives Jacob's smug grin a stinkeye every time the conversation shifts and Eli sticks with it, he seems pleased to have someone to talk to about the projects he's been letting build up.  Eli can understand that - it's a lot easier to think up things to change about your place than it is to actually _change_ anything.

Eli also thanks him verbally for the drink, and again for the next round, although he hopes that'll be the last one. John's not nearly as much of a dick as he introduced himself as; he just comes in hot, is all.  Maybe he's overprotective of Jacob, or something. Either way, there's enough evidence of him trying to play nice that Eli finds it easy to ignore it when John's default sarcasm digs a little too deep or runs a little raw.

Jacob seems to think it's going well. Partway through his third beer, he looks around for the bathroom, rising to his feet when he spots it just a little further into the back. "I'll be right back," he says, leaving John and Eli on their own. He hasn't been contributing much to the conversation at all, but somehow as soon as he leaves, they both run out of things to say, falling into an almost immediate, awkward silence.

John is on his second glass of whiskey, no ice, and has rolled his sleeves up to just below his elbow. Eli watches the tattoos on his arms stretch as he rolls the glass, and then rolls up his own sleeve to show John the ink he has in the matching space. It's a little embarrassing, a faded flag in a poorly drawn eagle's beak, but John only teases him gently for it. "How patriotic.  I can practically hear the off-key star-spangled-banner it's singing."

Eli laughs. "When you're drunk and looking for ink in Montana, this is pretty much all you're gonna wind up with."

"Good to know." John looks down at his own tattoos for a moment, then takes a restrained drink and sets his glass down. "I'm starting to see why Jacob's taken such a liking to you," he drawls. "You seem... nice."

The compliment comes off as a sort of insult, mostly from the way John is reluctant to admit it, but Eli doesn't let that get him down. "I try to be nice," he replies, "It's easier than being a dick.  Less work, anyway."

John chuckles, clearly not buying it. He leans over the table corner between them; Eli's not sure if he's trying to be conspiratorial or intimidating or what, but mostly it just makes it look like he doesn't understand personal boundaries. "Jacob is supposed to be good at reading people," he says, "But I'm not so sure. He tends to make mistakes, trust the wrong people, _get the wrong idea_..."

Oh. _Oh._

The idea that _John_ is the one spying on this inconspicuous date, not Jess or Sharky, sends Eli into a brief tailspin. He hadn't considered for a second that John had come here on purpose, although now that he thinks about it, it does explain the grudging looks and the pseudo-jealousy. And now he's sitting here while John's - what? Trying to give him the goddamn _shotgun_ talk?  Did John seriously come all the way out here just to make sure Jacob wasn't barking up the wrong tree?  That's.... sort of sweet, honestly.  Eli's not about to admit it, because John would probably take offense, but he thinks it all the same.

"You can relax," he says, although he knows the pause beforehand looks pretty incriminating. "Your brother is a good guy. I don't have any intention of, uh. Messing with him, or anything. Whatever it is you're thinking I'm going to do."

Jacob comes out of the bathroom, which cuts that conversation off. All John will say as his brother makes his way back to them is, "We'll see."

"We'll see, what?" Jacob asks in suspicion as he settles back in his seat, looking first at John and then at Eli.

"Whether or not I'll be doing anything with the ranch in the foreseeable future," John replies, "Really, Jacob. You're so _suspicious_ all the time. Paranoia's not good for you at your age."

Eli nods reassuringly when Jacob looks to him for confirmation, which does seem to put him at ease. "I still don't know why you picked such a huge place," he admits. "The place has, what, a dozen rooms?"

"Partially for the hangar," John drawls, "Although, if I'd known you were going to abandon Joseph and me there, I might have looked for something more _reasonable_."

"As if Joseph lives there, either."

Eli catches John's hackles raising, even when Jacob seems to miss it.  He wonders if it would be a good idea to step on Jacob's boot before he accidentally puts it in his mouth.  "Joseph's the only reason either of us are here, so he can do what he wants."

Jacob rolls his eyes.  "You might want to put a tracker on him, anyway.  Never know when he'll wander off again."

He clearly means it as a joke, but John definitely doesn't take it that way.  Eli can see it in the purposeful way he shifts in his seat, draining the two fingers of whiskey in front of him with a sort of final meal confidence that Eli does _not_ like.  Jacob doesn't seem to notice the way John's moving, or the steely-eyed once-over he gives his older brother.  Eli, on the other hand, gets an eerie feeling in the pit of his stomach; it's like standing on a beach and seeing the tide roll back a mile off-coast.

"I was doing some digging on the zoning rights for the land you two lovingly live off of," John drawls,  "You own a _lot_ of land, Eli. More than you live off of - different properties all over the county."

It's... not exactly the tsunami Eli had expected.  Jacob looks just as confused as him, which is somewhat reassuring, but with no idea where John is coming from, Eli's not sure how to respond.  "Uh... yeah, I guess," he finally replies.  "What, is it illegal for a man to own more than one piece of land?"

"You own the lake in front of the Veteran's Hospital. Why's that?"

"Why, you interested in making an offer?"

"As if I'd want to own _more_ of this godforsaken county than I already do."

Jacob rubs his jaw, frowning at the slow implosion happening in front of them. "Maybe it's time you lay off the drinks," he suggests.

That is, apparently, the _wrong_ thing to say. John gives Jacob a look of disbelief, replying, "You aren't going to impress anyone with that attitude," before refocusing his scowl back on Eli. "What about the house in Missoula? A whole place there, but I don't think you've left _your house_ in years, now. I assume that you bought it for your wife in the divorce?"

Ah, shit.

Eli had been looking for a natural disaster, not a goddamn atom bomb. He tries not to let his surprise show, but there's a distinct glint in John's eye that tells him he's failing miserably. "Yeah," he says, clearing his throat and reaching for his drink in the same motion.  He can feel Jacob watching him, but he refuses to break eye-contact with John. He's been too cagey already, so Eli tries direct honesty instead; it worked pretty well with Jacob - maybe it's all John needs, too. "She needed a place close to her parents."

John nods, and immediately Eli knows that opening up to John is, again, the _wrong_ move. "I thought so. Probably easier than paying alimony - Lord knows, looking at the police reports, she certainly had a _lifestyle_ to maintain -"

"John," Jacob hisses in warning.

"I'm only trying to get to know your new friend better," John drawls, although the venom in his voice says otherwise. "After all, I know you _hate_ digging into people's personal lives."

"She got what she got," Eli says, trying hard not to bite off the words, not wanting to give John the satisfaction of riling him up.  This is _exactly_ what Jacob said would happen - he never should have let his guard down. "I got what I got. Do you have a point to all this?"

John shakes his head. "Just putting the timeline together. I mean, you barely waited to divorce her after the accident."

Eli tenses. "That's out of line and you know it," he says, words clipped against his teeth.  He doesn't know what he's gonna do if John keeps this up - and the worst part is, part of him is hoping John _will_ keep pushing, so they can all find out what happens.

"A month and a half is insane, you know that, right? Barely even time to plan a funeral, much less file for divorce _and_ buy a house. That's impressive. It really is."

It's honestly humiliating to have John drag up Eli's past like this. It's like he doesn't comprehend the magnitude of what he's doing, or he just plain doesn't care, effortlessly tearing the compartmentalized trauma apart while all Eli can do is watch.  Watch and wait for the judgment he knows is gonna be passed, the "if you _knew betters_ " and the "why didn't yous" that even his own goddamn in-laws threw at him just before he got in his car and never looked back.

"If you're so eager for gossip, _look around,_ " Eli snaps.  He gestures to the rest of the bar, oblivious to what they're being pointed at for, and barely notices Mary May's watchful eyes on them. "There's nobody in Hope County that hasn't speculated my situation to death. You move into some fancy ranch and think you suddenly _know_ everything? You think you can just come in here and start shit with me because - because I'm _hanging around your brother_?"

Eli hears his voice rising, but it's John's glancing around that keeps him from restraining himself.  That nasty little part of him that had wanted John to keep pushing is hoping that he likes having the spotlight on him.  "I was only curious," John replies at last. Eli can hear a trace of nerves under his blase tone, the realization that he's stepped onto a minefield he doesn't have a map for. Well, _good_. Hopefully he'll learn a lesson when he blows his goddamn leg off. "After all, you're living all alone up there. I have to watch out for my brother."

Jacob opens his mouth to respond, but Eli beats him to the punch. "And I'm sure bringing up my ex-wife is really helping you watch out for him," Eli snaps. "You want to say something, John, I suggest you say it before I gag you with your own foot."

John tuts unhappily at the threat, but his eyes are fixed on Jacob. Eli doesn't have to look to know what Jacob's thinking; he can practically feel his anger radiating off him. _Good_.  Let John blow off both his goddamn legs.

"I think I've made my point," John says.

Eli feels his hands clench. The fucking nerve! Made his _point_?

He finds himself standing before he can rein himself in, face hot, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. "The fuck was _your point_ ," Eli starts, only to be interrupted as Jacob stands abruptly beside him, hands coming down hard enough on the tabletop to make John cringe.  There's a ripple of silence that follows the noise as the rest of the bar starts to pick up on the situation, but Eli's too busy counting to ten to notice the stares and hand-hidden whispers.

"You're done," Jacob orders.

John has the gall to look hurt that Jacob isn't taking his side. "I was only -"

" _You are done_ ," Jacob repeats, and he fixes John with a nasty look until he gets a nod of confirmation, John's eyes fixing on the tabletop instead of them. It's only when that happens that Eli notices that they've made one hell of a scene. Realizing everybody in the joint has their eyes on them and that most of them probably heard his outburst fills Eli's chest with hot shame.

"I... should go," he says. He barely takes three steps before Jacob joins him, keeping pace with his desperate retreat as though he's the one running from a public meltdown.

It isn't until they're settled in Eli's truck that Jacob speaks up. "Sorry," he says, "I, uh. I didn't know he was going to be like that."

"What was he _supposed_ to be like?" Eli responds, snapping a little too harshly in Jacob's direction as his shaky hands try to fit the key in the ignition. Jacob doesn't respond, and after a few futile attempts, Eli gives up and drops his forehead against the steering wheel with a sigh. "Here I was, thinking you'd be the worst out of your family," he jokes weakly.

Jacob chuckles. "The three of us tie for that award." There's a moment of silence that Eli wallows through without noticing, before Jacob reaches over and takes the keys from Eli's hand, dangling next to his head on the wheel. Eli watches through his hair as Jacob turns the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to life.  His hands escaped the worst of the scarring; even at this distance, Eli can only see little flecks of scar tissue on the back of his hands. Jacob is watching him carefully when he finally turns his head to face him, tired blue eyes searching Eli's face for something to go on. "He tried to bug me about you when I bought the property, but I brushed him off. Looks like he's been stewing ever since." With a quiet breath, Jacob breaks eye-contact, falling back against the passenger seat. "If you keep hanging around, he's gonna probably figure I chose you over him and lose it."

Eli chuckles. He can hear the warning in Jacob's tone, can see the uneasy way he shifts in his seat, but even if John's wrath were something to be intimidated by, Eli wouldn't give him the fucking satisfaction. "Well, tonight will be a hard act for him to follow." Eli finally sits up in his own seat. There are a few people milling outside that weren't there before, and he has the sneaking suspicion they're out to see why Jacob and Eli left in such a huff. If John's still in there, who _knows_ what kind of scene might be brewing. They should probably get going before things get worse.

"Yeah. That was..." Jacob reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Not ideal."

Eli scoffs at the understatement, throwing the truck out of park and pulling out onto the street. He feels less shaky, steadier now, but his heart is still beating unreasonably fast and he feels the urge to run under his skin. "You mind if we just... drive a bit?"

Jacob looks at him, then out the window. "So long as you don't mind the company."

Although it isn't as comfortable as the drive in, there's no tension in the quiet between them. Eli takes roads at random, picking them only based on whether or not they connect further down the line to another road. Earlier, he'd had some ideas for places he could take Jacob after they'd unwound at the Spread Eagle, but things haven't worked out exactly the way Eli had hoped they would. At the very least, he could have done without John's impromptu baggage check.

"You knew I was married before, right?" Eli asks, unable to stop himself. It's something he should have brought up before - maybe not when they'd been warming up to each other, but the idea of Jacob finding out because of his idiot brother is almost unbearable. "I never, uh. Brought it up before, but..."

Jacob nods, looking briefly in Eli's direction before fixing his eyes back out the windshield. "Yeah," he says, almost too solemnly. "You ever notice that the less you want to do with gossip, the quicker it finds you?"

"Why do you think I live in the goddamn mountains?" Eli laughs. Jacob laughs, too, a hoarse, throaty chuckle, relaxing his shoulders somewhat. Eli hadn't realized how tense he was until then; maybe he'd been preparing to jump out of the truck if things got too awkward.  Somehow, that feels like a _very_ Jacob thing to do. "I guess I just wanted to make sure. I probably should've told you..."

"You don't owe me any explanations," Jacob replies. The nerves tangled in Eli's gut ease at the reassurance. "Everyone has something in their past they'd rather not talk about."

"Maybe I don't," Eli says, "But I want you to know. And I definitely don't want you to learn about it from fucking _John_."

Jacob huffs at the vitriolic way Eli says his brother's name, but he doesn't comment. He fixes Eli with a solemn expression. Eli can't help but worry that maybe talking about his goddamn _ex-wife_ and all the shit she comes with is only going to make a romantic pursuit more impossible, but that doesn't matter.  Romance or not, Eli can safely admit that Jacob has become his friend, and that alone means he deserves to know the truth, and not just gossip-riddled hearsay.

Finally, Jacob gestures to the moving car around them, offering a sympathetic version of the grin Eli likes so much. "I'm a captive audience."

Eli doesn't tell Jacob _everything_ , but he shares what doesn't feel too raw. He glosses over the high school binge drinking, the awful dates he's had with various versions of "the one" until he'd landed on _the one_. He talks about the red flags he didn't recognize, like their poke-and-stick tattoos that Eli later had to cover up, and the time he'd had to climb up a building just to prove she couldn't kill herself with a one-story fall, and some of the smaller things that he'd thought as a teen were wild and romantic but were, really, just more warning signs he willfully ignored.

They loop back through the valley and start towards the mountains while Eli talks about the fall that broke her leg, two stories onto the pavement after a bad, bad night in their mid-twenties. He doesn't talk about the painkillers that came from it, or how they grabbed hold of her and never let go, because it feels - weird, _wrong_ to throw up all her private trauma with his own, and he knows she would hate it if he did.  Jacob seems to pick up on them from their absence in the post-fall stories; omitting the pill abuse is like redacting a personal memoir, leaving too many obvious gaps that fill themselves in with their absence.

Jacob doesn't interrupt Eli's aimless ramblings, letting him pick at random threads of memories he hasn't had the courage to think about in years. Finding out she was pregnant, getting a literal shotgun talk from her father - it's all stuff he can call back on fondly, so long as he ignores the stop signs and caution tape that he can see plainly in hindsight.

It's talking about _after_ the wedding that's hard. His throat closes up while he talks about his son being born, and he works the pedals a little too hard, takes turns a little too sharp, while he tells Jacob about all of Hope County stuffing the nursery for him after his father died.  Diapers and toys and books, so many hand-me-downs to keep Noah entertained from zero to eighteen, and so many things to return to sender or donate once he was gone.

They're not far from home, now. Eli is the most familiar with these roads, but at the moment he doesn't quite trust himself, so he pulls off to the shoulder and slides into park. "Sorry," he says, strangely short of breath, "I... It's been a while since I..."

Jacob nods. "It's fine," he says, although he doesn't meet Eli's eyes, too occupied looking at his hands. Eli wants to grab them, but he's got no goddamn recourse to, and he's pretty sure that tonight has taken him firmly out of the running for Jacob's affections. Losing it on his asshole brother and then rambling about his goddamn ex-wife for twenty minutes _has_ to be disqualifying.  Tonight has definitely been the worst date Eli's ever been on, and honestly, Jacob would be an idiot to want much of anything to do with him after this.

"I imagine you can see where the story goes," he sighs at last, pressing his forehead into the steering wheel once more before leaning back in his seat, tilting his face towards the roof of the cab. "John did enough foreshadowing, I'd be a little offended if you didn't."

Eli catches Jacob's nod from the corner of his eye. "Yeah," he says, his voice tight and hoarse. "Yeah, I know."

Exhaling heavily, Eli closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It comes out with a tired laugh that isn't entirely intentional. "I promise, I'm not usually such a buzz-kill," he apologizes, although lately, that seems to be the only thing he's been.

"This is entirely John's fault," Jacob replies.  He offers Eli a smile, reassuringly bitter around the edges. "Maybe next time, we should go straight to drinking under the bridge."

Eli's relieved to hear an attempt at humor, something to make this feel not so big, not so terrifying. "Yeah, cut out the middle-man. You, me, and a handle of whiskey.  Nobody's bad decisions but our own."

Jacob grins out the windshield, still not quite looking Eli's way. "Sounds like a plan."

Although there's plenty more Eli could tell, he feels too drained to do it properly. Combing his fingers through his beard in thought, Eli briefly glances into the rear-view mirrors, then over to Jacob. "I'm sorry about riling up your brother like that. For what it's worth, I was _trying_ to play nice."

" _You_ don't have to apologize," Jacob snorts. He glances Eli's way, catches his eye and holds it. "John's... frustrating, even on a good day, and there haven't been many of those lately. We, uh." He clears his throat. "He and I have a rough relationship. I... wasn't around when I should've been, and he resents me for it. Not excusing his shitty attitude, just... explaining it. We obviously need to talk. I just... figured I could put it off."

Eli shakes his head, shooting Jacob a wry grin. "Yeah, thanks for that."

"How was I supposed to know he was going to do _that_?"

Eli _wants_ to say, "because you're brothers," but Jacob has already admitted that they aren't exactly close, and Eli won't sink to that level. Instead, he reaches over and slides the truck back into drive. "It's fine," he tells Jacob, "I'll win him over eventually."

"You really don't have to do that."

"Maybe not, but I want to." It's only once he's got them back on the road that he risks glancing Jacob's way, catching his eyes by accident and trying to grin away his embarrassment. "I want your brothers to like me. At least, John's gonna learn to tolerate the hell out of me."

Jacob's still watching him, even after they pass by the rock formation half a mile from Eli's place, the first sign that they're back in their own territory.  It's - distracting.  The tension in Eli's stomach is wound up tight, but it's not exactly unpleasant, and he can feel himself flushing under the intensity of Jacob's gaze.  "What?" he asks, finally offering Jacob a grin that tries to break the tension.

"Nothing," Jacob responds, blue eyes unwavering even as Eli has to focus on the road.  "You're... impressive, is all."

"I've had a lot of words thrown my way, but that's not one of them."

Even though Eli isn't looking directly at him, he can still tell when Jacob finally looks away, feeling his gaze lift like a weight off his chest.  "Well," he mumbles, "You are."

The last few minutes of the drive are quiet, with Jacob refusing to look at Eli directly and Eli content enough with Jacob's compliment to let the whole thing lie.  They pull into Eli's driveway and sit for a minute after Eli kills the engine, listening to the cooling tick before finally climbing out of the cab.  It's only once they're standing together, between the truck and Eli's cabin, that the silence turns awkward.

Jacob's eyes trace the path from Eli's truck to his front door as if checking for traps. Not seeing any danger in it, he takes a step forward, forming a roadblock between Eli and his house. "Tonight didn't go the way I wanted it to," he admits, as though he'd planned for this like Eli had. "I know the other night didn't chase you off, but with John..." He shrugs, dropping his eyes to the ground between them. "I know that might've... soured things."

Eye contact is a tricky thing to maintain with Jacob when he isn't inclined towards it, but Eli draws his gaze back as he pushes away from the truck, narrowing the gap between them into something that only borders platonic. He can see just how off guard the move catches Jacob as he glances over, eyebrows raised, scars tugging on his lip as he tries to keep his poker face.

"I told you," he says, "You're not scaring me off."

Jacob searches Eli's expression. Eli has a sneaking suspicion that Jacob remembers more of the other night than Eli had originally suspected. "That's good to know," he says, his voice low, rumbling in the air between them.

"Tonight didn't go the way I wanted, either," is the closest Eli can get to admitting to _how_ he wanted it to go, but he thinks Jacob understands what he means. Hopefully. Ugh. He should just tell him, _I wanted this to be a date,_ get it out there, so the two of them can know if they're on the same page.

Before he gets a chance, Jacob hums and cuts in. "John said you owned the lake up by the V.C.," he says, more of an observation than a question.

"I inherited it," he says, "But yeah. Why? Don't tell me _you_ want it."

Jacob laughs, rubbing the back of his neck in something approximating embarrassment. "I don't have that kind of money," he says. "I've just been curious about the place. Haven't gotten up there, though. We talked about fishing, earlier..."

"Oh," Eli says, because _nobody_ goes up that way anymore, not even Eli himself.  He can't help that it's so far out in the boonies that nobody wants to bother with it - and then he thinks, well, that far out, interruptions are few and far between.

Jacob is regarding him with raised brows and Eli realizes he's left him hanging for too long, thinking about - well, _things_ , and he waves a hand to quickly bring himself back to the conversation. "Yeah. I mean. _Yes_. Gotta admit, I don't know if there's even anything living in that swamp, but..." Eli doesn't know what to do with the relieved smile Jacob directs at him, and he stumbles over the rest of his sentence like a child. "It's nice. Uh, out there."

"Bet it is," Jacob agrees, looking Eli up and down before taking a purposeful step back. Eli has to struggle not to follow, pulled like a magnet, but he manages to hold his ground, and catches Jacob's pleased expression just before his face returns to a more neutral geniality. "It's about time I got back."

"John's not going to show up and chew you out for taking my side, right?" Eli asks, leaning back against his truck.  Jacob shrugs helplessly; there's no accurate forecasting of John's emotions, just like there's no way to predict an earthquake.  "Fair enough," Eli supposes, rolling his eyes.  "Might want to consider building a bunker for the next time there's fallout with him."

"Believe me, there's no bunker that could keep John away."  Jacob glances towards the drive, as though he's worried John might be secretly lurking nearby.  Eli can't say he blames him - that strikes him as just the sort of thing John might do.  "He's better than that," Jacob says at last, scrubbing a hand across the back of his head awkwardly.  "He can be better than that."

He doesn't sound so sure about it, but at the very least, it's what he wants to believe.  He'd said that they'd moved out here to - fix things, get closer, whatever it is that they need, and despite John's shitty attitude, Eli knows that John was trying to do just that tonight.  Even if things had blown up in his face.

So, he shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs with a smile.  "He's just worried about you," he offers.  "Talk to him. I'm not gonna hold a grudge, so long as he doesn't."

Eli's always been a proponent of taking the high road, but the look of relief that comes over Jacob is more than Eli can really bear.  He knows he's in trouble, _real_ trouble, because Jacob smiles at him and all Eli can think about is how to get another chance to light Jacob up like that again.  Hell, he'd put himself through another torturous conversation with John if it meant that he'd come through for Jacob.

"Good," Jacob says, completely unaware of Eli's wild thought process.  "Thank you, Eli," he adds, and Eli swears he might keel over right there on the hood of his truck.

"Yeah," he says, "Of course.  No problem."  Thankfully, his voice is steady, even as he plunges onward to say, "Let me know what days you've got free.  For the, uh.  Fishing."

There's no misinterpreting the smirk Jacob gives him.  "Yeah," he replies. "Fishing."

Eli waits until Jacob disappears into the tree-line to head inside himself.  He's unable to help briefly jogging in place once he closes himself in, finally working out the jitters that have been building since John pulled his stunt.  He feels punch-drunk, stumbling around his house like an idiot while his thoughts reel and spiral out of control; he's not even sure what he's supposed to do, now that he's alone.  It hadn't been too long ago that going out for any manner of socializing would have left Eli recharging for days, and now all of a sudden he can't wait to get back outside.  He'd run through this day again, even, just to relive enjoying somebody's company.

He doesn't know if Jacob realizes just how deep a hole he's pulled Eli out of; he hadn't realized it himself until just now, standing on solid ground and looking back the way he came.  With any luck, though, Eli will get the chance to tell him soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaha fuck john
> 
> i hope you guys enjoyed, and if you did, please consider leaving a comment or a kudos!! i would also super appreciate sharing this fic, but you probably already knew that.
> 
> if you read this and thought "damn, i like eli/jacob but i don't think kelly's getting it right" then you know what, motherfucker???? GOOD please go write more so i can read somebody else's fic lmfao PLEASE I'M DESPERATE FOR ELI/JACOB!!!!


	6. olly olly oxen free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli and Jacob go for a trip into the mountains. They say it's to check out the abandoned veteran's hospital, but let's face it: after last time, all they want to do is ensure nobody else will be coming around and bothering them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man!!! thank you guys for being so patient with me! this chapter was a pain in the ass to get done b/c i had like 3 different drafts written before i finalized the plot, and boy were they hard to connect!!!
> 
> i couldn't update during november as i was putting all of my effort into my nano project, but i've been working (almost) every day to get this chapter out. hopefully i'll be a little faster with the next two, which will come out either together or in close tandem with one another.
> 
> if you follow me on tumblr, please note that i've moved pretty much to twitter & dreamwidth. you can find me pretty much anywhere at "bentsage" - i'll be looking into pillowfort once i know it's not a security hazard.

St. Francis Veterans Center was built in the late eighties, in a state-wide effort to accommodate Montana's growing veteran population. It might as well have been built in California for how useful it's been to the cause.

Hope County's population has never been big enough to support the kind of building the government had wanted to put in, but that hadn't stopped the program from going forward anyway. The result had been a short four-year stint before the doors closed in '92 - right when it could have started to do the most good. From there, the place has been left to rot in quiet isolation, just far enough out of the way that it's easy to forget about. They locked the gate to the unpaved road back in '93, and since then its only use has been as the backdrop for a leisurely hike.

Telling Jacob all that on their way to the center probably makes Eli and all of Hope County seem bitter, but he can't change the facts. People were incensed back when it had been built, especially with the government hiring outside contractors in a major misunderstanding of the county's needs. After it had closed, it just became another random marker in the county catalog of abandoned structures and weird but ultimately uninteresting locations.

"The place gets picked up every couple years by some MSU student butting up on a film degree, but nothing ever really comes from it."

Jacob hangs his arm further out the passenger window, leaning his head against the door. The mid-morning sunlight is at just the right angle to bathe him in a warm glow, and Eli has to struggle not to keep looking over. "You'd think they'd auction off the land," Jacob ruminates. "Usually the government can't wait to get rid of money waste."

Even though Eli suspects it wouldn't matter how unpleasant he made the place seem, he should probably say something to make this seem worth the trip. "They must see some point in keeping it. And, I mean... it has it's own kind of charm. Makes for an interesting walk, anyway. Quiet, usually nobody around..." The pothole Eli hits is enough to keep him from over-thinking his own words, but from the way Jacob grins to himself there's no doubt he's considering how to best use their time. After all, they can avoid saying it all they want, but there's no mistaking the fact that they're going out in the woods to be _alone_.

There are plenty of reasons why Eli should bring it up, maybe clear the air, but he doesn't want to break the tension quite yet. He's gotten some of his confidence back, after their not-date at the bar and the _half-day later_ text asking about _fishing, or hiking, or whatever we can get up to out there,_ but that doesn't mean he's quite ready to pull the trigger yet. There's something exhilarating about the nebulous in-between that they've found themselves hovering in, and Eli isn't quite ready to bring an end to the anticipation.

Eli manages to only vaguely think about those kinds of things while keeping most of his attention on the road. When Jacob asks him, "Why do _you_ own a piece of government land?," he doesn't have enough attention left to lie or try to be vague.

Heaving a sigh, Eli turns down onto the road connected to the hospital's gate. "The land was originally a sort of... privately owned acreage that a couple older residents owned in pieces. Something about claims from before statehood, I don't know. The point is - everybody else eventually sold their land, except my grandfather. He made dad promise not to sell the plot when he died. I think dad was joking when he asked me not to sell it back either, but... here we are."

Eli couldn't have planned it better if he'd tried, pulling off onto the dirt wash that was never paved over. "Thankfully, there's not much to tax, but since nobody wants the hospital or the land it's on..."

"Stuck with your own lake," Jacob chuckles. "It could be worse."

"That's never kept me from griping."

Although they've brought some fishing supplies, they wind up leaving it behind in the truck. Neither of them are very interested in hauling the stuff, but they'd also both needed to pretend the situation required them - now that they're here, though, the allure of exploring an abandoned building is more appealing than trying to catch a sickly trout. Eli keeps his travel kit with him, but other than water, they don't need to bring a lot. The whole walk is man-made, and it only takes fifteen minutes to reach the hospital itself.

Instead of taking the main dirt road, Eli leads Jacob to the trees, where a time-worn dirt path has formed, running mostly parallel to the road. It's got a better atmosphere, more shade, and more importantly, there's a spot Eli remembers that looks right out over the hospital. He wants to give Jacob a better view of the place than just approaching it head on - you can't see the magnitude of the project from the road.  He's painted a pretty dim view of the place, and it's only right he give it a chance to speak for itself.

"We probably should have brought Rambo along," Eli says once they're on their way up the slope.

Jacob chuckles. "Probably, but the bastard's a handful. Better off letting him watch things for me."

Eli knows better than to get ahead of himself, but he still can't resist imagining Rambo on his own front porch, guarding the place for the two of them. He's quick to shake the thought free, but the tight warmth of anticipation sticks in his chest, refusing to leave despite how wildly it was imagined into being. "Well," he says, clearing his throat, "He can join us next time."

Jacob hums in absent-minded agreement, eyes on the path ahead of them, but Eli doesn't miss the smile he's trying to hide. When Eli had first confronted Jacob, built like a redwood and scarred half to hell, he'd never considered the way a smile would light up his face.

Jacob clears his throat, not noticing that he's being watched. "Honestly, I didn't think you were too fond of him. He can be intimidating."

Eli bites his tongue to keep from jumping on the easy opportunity to compare the dog to its owner. "Surprised the hell out of me the first time I saw him," he admits. "I like dogs, though." He laughs, "Probably didn't seem like it, the way I was acting."

"Nah," Jacob chuckles with a shake of his head. "I get it. You were on edge. We weren't well enough acquainted for me to be trespassing like that."

It's the first time in a while Eli's thought to ask the question, but now that Jacob's brought it up, he's unable to resist. "I get the hunting, sure, but why would you always be creeping around _my_ place when there's plenty of space between us?"

"Rambo gets restless at weird hours," Jacob explains with a shrug. "I can't help it if we're both anxious for a walk at two in the morning." He rubs the back of his neck. "Why so _close_ , though? Honestly, I'm still not familiar with the acreage I own. Figured it'd be safer to keep near civilization." He chuckles. "Thought I was being smart, but now I know I was just making you paranoid."

It's Eli's turn to laugh, catching sight of the bend he'd been looking for coming up on them. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm always paranoid. It's why I settled out in the middle of prepper country. I've helped install a dozen bunkers all over the woods - some of it was bound to rub off on me." He hesitates, because admitting that you even remotely buy into doomsday bullshit can paint you as a nutjob, but - damn it, he _likes_ Jacob. So he should probably know, "I mean, I even got a bunker of my own."

He tries to play it off as though it's a random factoid, like his favorite color or lucky number, but Jacob latches on with an expressive raise of his eyebrow. He doesn't sound like he's writing Eli off when he asks curiously, "Is that so?"

"Well... yeah. I don't wanna call it a hobby - Lord knows somebody out there would take offense - but I bought into the hype. We're probably within spitting distance of somebody's bunker right now, so it's not like I'm _weird_ or anything."

It comes off a little more defensive than Eli had intended, but Jacob only grins. "Sure."

"Seriously. I'm not - it's just cathartic, is all. I, uh... might've had a couple bad months after the accident. Prepping helps me feel, I don't know, in control of things. Something like that." He can feel Jacob's grin even as he looks out into the underbrush to avoid eye-contact.

"I get it," Jacob replies, which is more surprising than it probably should be. "Anyway... Better to be prepared, with the way shit's going." He gestures vaguely to the world outside the bubble of Hope county, which is about as close to reality as Eli likes to get.  "You're going to have to show me, you know," he adds, in case Eli doesn't already know that.  "A genuine doomsday bunker."

"It's _not_ a doomsday bunker.  It's... just a bunker."

Jacob laughs.  "I'm sure Joseph would appreciate it, too.  He's got a taste for the apocalyptic."

Eli stops them at the overlook to take a moment. He remembers clearly walking this path a few times before, usually alone, and he's glad to see the clear, open blue sky above the cold, quiet remains of the hospital.

Jacob whistles. "Impressive," he says, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the sun overhead. "Hell of a place for the middle of nowhere."

"Tell me about it." Eli tries not to be obvious as he watches Jacob take in the view, glad that Jacob's elbow hides him staring at Jacob's flexing muscles. "Better use this chance to make sure John isn't looking to ambush me," he jokes, relieved when Jacob chuckles in return.

"Don't worry," he says, "I made sure to leave him _and_ Joseph out of my plans today. I learned my lesson."

"So... You told your brothers we were going out, huh?" Eli doesn't even try to hide his smug, assured smile, even when Jacob squints in his direction.   "Is that why John showed up the way he did?"

Jacob seems to realize he's said too much, but it's too late. "He wanted to know what I was doing," he replies, somewhat defensively. "I didn't think he was going to insert himself into the situation like a fucking splinter."

Eli laughs. He hears just how goofy he's being about such a small bit of information, but the way Jacob shuffles his feet and tries to hide the way his face is going red tells him that he isn't the only one feeling bubbly inside.

"Thank God he hates hiking, otherwise I'd actually be worried," Eli says. "Unless I should be worried about Joseph today."

"Nah," Jacob replies, turning his face away from the sun. "The worst thing that Joseph does is wander. If he managed to find himself all the way out here, he'd just assume it was 'divine providence' that put him here."

The way Jacob sarcastically flairs his hands for air quotes is adorable, and Eli can't help but grin. "I've heard he's... religious," he offers. It's kinder than saying "fanatical," and _definitely_ kinder than pointing out it was Pastor Jerome who said it in the first place.

"Like John being an asshole, Joseph more than lives up to the rumors." He clears his throat, shuffling his feet and glancing around almost guiltily, as though he expects Joseph to pop out from behind the trees and take offense. "Life was hard for him. Religion wound up being the only thing that stuck it out."

"Sounds like all three of you had it rough," Eli suggests. He catches a hard edge in Jacob's expression as he glances back Eli's way, but it dissolves when he sees that Eli isn't just trying to rile him up.

"We definitely didn't have it easy," he replies, and that seems to be all he wants to say about it.

It doesn't take long to reach the lake from the overlook, but even from far away Eli had seen just how poor the situation has gotten. Getting closer doesn't help; they reach it and even Eli is underwhelmed by the overgrown, partially dried up lake bed. It's been a long, hot summer, but there's no doubt that his neglect has made things worse. It's a good thing they didn't bother to bring any gear out here - that would have been humiliating.

"Wow," Jacob chuckles, "Nice lake, Palmer."

Eli rolls his eyes. "You think you can do better, feel free to make an offer."

The two of them walk the edge of the sorry excuse of a lake and swing towards the building itself. At least Eli's neglect has kept the pond looking as untouched as the building, whose intimidating cement walls are cracked and tagged with faded graffiti. The gates are open wide enough for them to easily enter, rusted hinges barely keeping it together, but Jacob steps close to Eli as they pass between them. It's almost too obvious to not comment on, but Eli manages to keep it to himself when Jacob's hand brushes the back of his own.

The courtyard is wide open, overgrown with weeds, and devoid of life. Jacob wanders behind Eli at a leisurely pace, squinting curiously at some more graffiti across the interior, before joining Eli at the front doors. "Jesus," he whistles, "This is a hell of a place to leave abandoned."

It's been long enough since anybody's been here that Eli has to put his back into it when he pulls open the door, and neither of them can resist a shudder at the lonely, echoing creak as the hinges try to remember how to work.

The lobby of St. Francis' is huge. Sunlight streams in from the back windows, dust swirling in the light; the hardwood floors creak under them as they enter, Jacob lazily making his way to the reception as though he's looking to check in. Eli takes a few moments to push the doors open behind them, unwilling to get stuck. When he moves to meet Jacob by the front desk, his eyes scan the waiting area for any signs of recent life. The floors are caked with dust, as are the plush but worn waiting chairs, and there aren't any recent footprints besides their own. Other than the rat droppings and what could be the remains of a years-dead skunk, the only thing to imply any humans have been inside is in the various graffiti taking up the walls. The most prominent design is a sketchy, dripping mural of flowers overlooking the Henbane. Or it could be a snake eating a rabbit. Eli's not really sure.

"Fanciest dump I've ever been to," Jacob drawls, having moved around the desk to idly poke through the drawers. From the austere, peeling wallpaper to the elaborate crown and baseboard molding that matches the hardwood floor, Eli's got to agree. Still, it's showing its age in the sun-weathered patterns on the floor, the rat droppings piling in the corners, and most distinctly in its yellowed plastic accessories. Weirdly enough, it's the light switches that really tip Eli off, practically green with how old and cracked they've gotten in the mountain's humidity. He looks at them and knows almost immediately that nobody's even tried flipping them in years.

"Big into urban exploration, huh?" Eli asks, grinning when Jacob shoots him a look that is so distinctly grumpily out of the loop.  "That's what they call what we're doing."

"Pretty sure it's _called_ trespassing," he grunts at last, turning away from Eli's laugh. "No - just not a lot of places back home that weren't falling apart worse than this."

Eli knows that Jacob is from Georgia, but he hasn't made much effort to learn more beyond that. Mostly because Jacob turns uncharacteristically shy when it comes to talking about himself. This is the first time Jacob's willingly initiated a conversation about it. 

When he asks, "That so?", he expects Jacob to divert the discussion.  He doesn't even mind the caginess - if anything, it only makes Eli more interested.  What he doesn't expect is for Jacob to explain himself as he wanders the waiting room.

"Rome's not exactly a tourist destination," he chuckles.  "I wouldn't say I preferred being overseas, but it's a close tie between which is worse."  He turns to start down the main hallway, and Eli follows behind with eager and probably obvious markers to keep the conversation going.  Mostly, "Yeah?" and, "I hear you," which is all that Jacob needs Eli to do.

While he doesn't go into much detail, the bones he throws Eli today are decidedly meatier with information.  He doesn't go much more into how he and his brothers were separated, admitting that none of them have fully divulged all the things that happened in their time apart.  Eli's surprised when the conversation glances past Jacob's scars and he actually says, "I was seventeen and an idiot."  Considering how closely he plays his history to his chest, even that is more than Eli could have expected.

For better or worse, it's the army that takes up most of Jacob's history, and although he avoids any and all details, he willingly drops facts as though he's itemized the list many times.  "82nd Airborne Division," "Served a couple tours in Iraq," "Declared unfit in '91." He chuckles there, gesturing to the hallway. "The place I got sent to wasn't nearly as nice as this, abandoned or not."

The worst part is how embarrassed Jacob seems to be about admitting to it. Realizing that Jacob's been avoiding eye-contact since he started divulging his personal history like he's in a deposition, Eli crowds into the doorway with him, putting both hands on Jacob's shoulders as he pushes past into the room. Turning to face him, Eli doesn't miss the smile Jacob's trying to hide with a grumpy expression.

"I feel like I've told you all this already," Jacob says.  Eli's being generous by not characterizing it as a pout.

"The things I know about you could fill out a note card." Eli leans forward, and Jacob sighs in defeat, blue eyes lingering on Eli's face before he starts pacing the mostly-empty office.

The silence stretches almost long enough that Eli struggles not to fill it himself, but Jacob _does_ eventually talk.  "The problem back then was that, unless someone on the outside was looking out for you, wherever they dropped you was where you were.    I took some bad advice early on and wound up back in the shithole I was aiming to get out of in the first place.  And... that's where I stayed. Took about about two years to run through all my savings. By '94 I was on the street. Turns out that a lot of the things that make you unfit for duty also make you unfit for work, so I relied on shelters. Of course, the shelter was as underfunded as I was, so that wasn't permanent."

Jacob shoots Eli a look, as though he expects Eli to be laughing at him, but the defensive glare deflates as Eli only asks, "What about your brothers? Where were they?"

Jacob laughs. "Doing about as well as me. Uh... there was a time when Joseph found me - sort of, more like he ran into me. 'Divine Providence' and all that. He... needed help, but I wasn't in any position to help myself, much less him. It wasn't until a couple years later, when John reached out, that we reconnected."

Eli sees the admission weighing on him, the way his eyes dart as he avoids Eli's judgment on the matter. But - who's Eli to judge? "Things usually work out the way they're meant to," Eli offers; he knows it must sound hollow, especially with the way Jacob glances at him, but he believes it. For the most part.

Jacob sighs, rapping his knuckles against the windowpane, the glass rattling softly. "Doesn't mean I don't wish I'd done things differently."

Eli laughs gently at that. "Don't I know it."

Nodding absently, Jacob moves from the window back to the doorway. "I guess you do." He stands in front of Eli for a moment, looming gently before stepping back to fill out the doorway. "Anyway, I'm here now. Better with my hand, mostly better in the head." He flexes his left hand into a fist as he speaks, tapping it against his temple with that smile of his.

"Well..."  Hesitating only for a moment, Eli pushes himself away from the desk and closes some of that casual open space between them.  "For what it's worth, I'm glad that you showed up when you did."

"Is that so," Jacob rumbles.

"Well - yeah."  Eli struggles to keep from pacing, fidgeting on his feet as he shoves his hands into his pockets.  "You probably guessed by now, but I haven't been having a great... couple years.  Things have been better with your bullheaded ass around, so... I'm thankful that you ended up here."

Jacob appraises Eli with a mixture of surprise and something else, something warm, reminding Eli of the anticipation that's been brewing in his gut.  "Well," he says, for once actually rendered speechless.  His jaw works, and then he flashes that earnest smile that lights up every positive neuron in Eli's goddamn brain.  He can feel himself starting to grin back, stupid and _so_ obvious.

They'd probably spend the rest of the day standing there awkwardly if it weren't for the stairwell creaking down the hall.  Despite all of Jacob's reassurances that his brothers haven't followed them out here, John is definitely the first person who comes to mind.  He hadn't bothered hiding the truck, and if John felt particularly revengeful...

"I _promise,_ it isn't him," Jacob reassures him, wearing a grin that tells Eli how easy he is to read.  "I'll go look."

"Brave of you," Eli teases lightly, earning a wrinkled nose in his direction before Jacob wanders down the hall.  Eli sticks behind for a moment, his brain and heart both having trouble deciding what to focus on first, but eventually he decides to follow.  After all, there's got to be more interesting places to snoop.

One of the offices has a large map pinned to the back wall, and so Eli breaks away from following Jacob to check it out.  There's no sign of any actual use; for all Eli knows, the county map was put up simply to make the office look more in line with the county.  Kind of a heavy-handed attempt, really.  Eli's not surprised; the way he remembers it from his childhood, the government had run the project into the ground, and his grandfather had definitely suspected it was out of spite.

"Nobody there," Jacob says, passing by the room Eli's in without a second glance.  He must not think much about the inherent creepiness of this abandoned place; if Eli walked by a room with Jacob looming in it, you'd bet he'd notice, corner of his eye or not.  He's watched enough horror movies to always be prepared. 

Jacob catches on that he's missing and asks with a chuckle, "Great, are we playing hide and seek, now?"

Eli hears Jacob's boots against the wooden floor, moving further away down the hall. He considers calling out - after all, the last thing they need is one of them falling through some rotten floorboards - but something in Jacob's steady pace holds his tongue. Eli's always hated how characters in horror movies would hide somewhere to scare a friend - mostly because in a pro-arms state like Montana, that's a fast way to get yourself shot - but now he sort of gets it. He wonders if he could outwit Jacob, get the drop on him, surprise him. He wonders how long Jacob will be willing to look for him before he gives up.

"A little old for these kinds of games," Jacob calls. Eli swallows at the playful lilt in his otherwise gravelly voice. It reminds him of gunshots in the woods late at night, and the deer strung up. Jacob's hands with a bloody knife.

Jesus, that _really_ shouldn't be frying his thoughts the way it is.

The floorboards creak traitorously beneath Eli's feet as he retreats further down the hall, cutting through two empty adjoining offices.

"Am I going to have to come find you?" Jacob drawls. "Might not like what happens when I do..."

With his heart hammering in his chest and his mind coming up with all sorts of things Jacob could mean by that, Eli edges his way out of the room and watches Jacob's back for a long couple of seconds. He doesn't have time to decide whether to hide or run before Jacob turns smartly on his heel, looking surprised - and then mildly disappointed - to find Eli standing there.

"That wasn't much of a challenge," Jacob says.  Eli doesn't miss for one second the way he tries to keep his tone neutral, in case Eli took him the wrong way - or took him the right way, but maybe didn't like the implication.

Eli, who very much likes the implication of Jacob catching him, points out, "Still gotta catch me." 

With Jacob blocking off the unexplored hallway, Eli has no choice but to take off running for the stairwell.  Jacob laughs loudly, as if the idea of Eli out-pacing him is a joke, and breaks into a run after him.  The floor shakes beneath their thunderous footsteps; Eli doesn't hold himself back and it seems like Jacob's booking it after him at full speed as well.  The idea to jump into an empty room and try to get behind Jacob never properly manifests, as he's running too fast to think, and then he's storming down the first flight of stairs with every intention of losing Jacob on the second floor.  Within the first turn, Eli finds himself facing the shadows of an empty, dark building, and he hesitates for too long on the landing that's bisected by a shaft of light.

The landing shudders as Jacob hops over the railing, easily clearing the drop that Eli had written off as too awkward for him to handle.  Eli only has time for a startled laugh at being so thoroughly outmaneuvered before Jacob is crowding against him, pressing him into the wall, pinning him between his arms.  His breathing is heavy as he looms over Eli, a predatory look in his eyes that kicks Eli's heart into his throat. There's barely any space between them; with the shaft of light only reaching their feet, the darkness makes it hard to tell whether or not there's any breathing room at all. Eli sure feels like there isn't - his lungs have forgotten what to do next, torn between gasping for air and holding his breath. That gleam in Jacob's eye is unmistakable, makes Eli's deer-heart buck, preparing to be chased down by wolves.

"Why'd you run, Palmer?" he growls; they're both out of breath, but somehow Jacob manages to keep his intensity.  He leans in close, until Eli can feel his warm breath against his face.  "Call of the void?  Wanted to see what I was threatening to do?"

Opening his mouth to tell Jacob that he's hoping there's going to be more than a _threat_ of action, Eli is rudely interrupted by his ringtone blasting from the bottom of his satchel. This far out from civilization, the sound is enough to make both of them jump; Jacob settles closer than before, almost chest to chest, close enough that Eli could very easily lean forward...

"Sorry," he sighs, "If somebody's calling me, it's probably an emergency."

The truth is, as much as he'd like to play the hunted prey animal right now - and _nobody_ is more surprised than him at how eager he is to fill that role - Eli's funk of the last couple months has chipped away at his customer pool, and he needs to put in some time to fix things before they spiral too far out of his control. Jacob, with his white-toothed grin angled towards Eli's throat and his ice-blue eyes roaming triumphantly across his skin, will, unfortunately, have to wait.

Eli barely has a chance to answer before Tammy is going off on him - mostly because she's been trying to reach him for almost an hour. "It's a disaster," she tells him, "The entire basement's flooded - some smartass decided to clog every toilet on the first floor with jockstraps and now they're all taking bets on how deep it is -" Jacob is close enough to hear and loud enough that when he laughs, Tammy most definitely hears. "Where _are you_?" she asks, and Eli does _not_ like the suspicion rising in her tone.

"You didn't try Lonny?" Eli asks. "Or Phillipe? I know he was moving, but..."

"He _already_ moved, almost a year ago. Lonny's already shut off the water, but he's got his hands full with dirty gym laundry. And _Virgil_ was here when it happened, so _he's_ making this into a whole..."

He can hear the hand-wave in her voice, a clear indication that the mayor has decided to blow this way out of proportion. Shit. Sighing heavily, Eli raises a hand to Jacob's chest and gives him one firm push; Jacob steps back without a fight, which is probably for the best. "I'm up by the V.C.," he admits, "I can be there inside an hour."

"What the hell are you doing up _there_? You know what, never mind, I don't care - classes finish up in an hour and then we are going to have an entire county's worth of teenagers trying to find an open window into the basement."

"Well, if you'd stop telling everyone that there's a swimming pool growing in the basement, maybe they wouldn't wanna go investigate."

"Just - get here, okay?"

Wishing he had just let the thing go to voicemail, Eli fumbles through a goodbye before hanging up and addressing Jacob with an apologetic frown. "Sorry. If it weren't an emergency..."

"Sounds like you're going to have your hands full," Jacob replies, more amused than anything.

"It's going to be a nightmare," Eli says, sighing and scrubbing his beard as he shoves his phone back into his kit. "Unfortunately, I need the work too much to pick and choose the jobs I do."

Jacob doesn't close the distance between them physically, but the look he gives Eli does the job for him. "More like you're the only one who can do anything about it."

His intensity takes Eli back for a moment, but he can appreciate the sentiment. Eli hasn't been doing a very good job of selling himself lately - to Jacob, to his customers, to himself - and that needs to change. "There's no contesting that," he offers with a lopsided, apologetic smile. "Doesn't mean I'd rather be here than dealing with it."

The admission is one Jacob happily accepts, biting his lip as he smiles and, boy, why does everyone have such shitty timing lately?

"Come on," Eli sighs, before he gets too upset over the interruption, "We'd better get going."

There's no stopping at the overlook as they hike back down the road to Eli's truck. With a job on his mind, the conversation can't help but continuously spiral back to the school as they make their way back to the truck. Mostly, Eli just laments about having to deal with Virgil's anxiety while they both debate just how drunk they'd have to be to go swimming in what's essentially sewer water.

"I can drop you off on my way," Eli offers as they climb into the truck. "I don't think you want to loiter around the school for me."

Jacob fastens his seatbelt and casts Eli an appraising look before offering, "Think you might need an extra pair of hands?"

Eli knows that Jacob isn't particularly handy, but he knows how to take instructions and how to be efficient, which is all Eli really needs.  He's had his help at home a few times now, so at least he knows he can work with him. Considering the only other person working the job is going to be Lonny, who _means_ well, but doesn't always know what that means...

"It's going to be a big job," Eli warns. "And I won't be able to leave until it's handled."

With a careless shrug, Jacob dangles his arm out the window, letting the wind catch his hair. "Worse comes to worst, John owes me for being a fucking disaster. A quick dive into the shit before he picks me up ought to teach him."

Briefly imagining John's very nice sports car's interior being destroyed by his vindictive brother, Eli caves easily. "Well then, welcome to the team." He frees one hand from the wheel to offer Jacob a joking handshake; Jacob takes his hand in his own, letting the connection linger until he finally takes his hand away with a chuckle.

"Besides, it's either this or sitting around with Rambo until you get back," he admits.

"What, you can't entertain yourself for a night?" Eli laughs, unable and unwilling to hide the way the admission makes him grin.

Jacob chuckles. "This might surprise you, Palmer, but I actually prefer your company over my own."

It doesn't _surprise_ him, exactly, but he has to take a second look at Jacob all the same. "Guess we've come a long way from you threatening me with a hunting knife," Eli laughs.

"You thought I was threatening you?" Jacob asks, startled, before he laughs and says, "Yeah, of course you did.  Guess that's what it'd look like."

"I mean, you were covered in blood and waving a knife around..."

Jacob is jokingly cagey about what his intentions had been with Eli that night.  Neither of them comment on how easily Jacob could head home when they stop by Eli's to pick up his tools; Jacob doesn't even get out of the truck. Eli leaves the motor running as he loads his supplies into the bed - including both of his sump pumps, even though one of them is on its last legs.  He'd been keeping it around in case his cellar flooded, but this is a better use.

Although Eli doesn't want to keep Tammy waiting, he's reluctant to go anywhere above the speed limit to get to the job.  Part of it has to do with the size of the job at hand, but there's no way Eli can deny that most of him just wants to spend the rest of the day with Jacob.  The whole plan had revolved around the two of them not being needed anywhere for the better part of the day; it was supposed to end with pizza and beer and, with _any_ luck, both of those things would have cushioned the awkward, borderline-high school conversation Eli knows they're going to have at some point.  (God, he can practically hear Jess sarcastically asking, "Does he _like_ like you?")  Instead, they're going to spend today knee-high in sewer water while Virgil calculates the fiscal impact of the repairs in real time from the stairway.

Jacob doesn't seem to mind; he's as relaxed as he'd been on the drive to the hospital, dangling one arm out the window while he lets the wind whip over his face.  He's smiled enough today that Eli is sure he's memorized where all of Jacob's laugh lines are; hopefully one day, he'll know how to trip each one.

They reach the school a little over an hour after Tammy's call.  Eli regards the building with a mixture of distaste and nostalgia, but he can't afford either right now.  Tammy is waiting outside, and other than casting a suspicious glare in Jacob's direction, the only acknowledgment she makes of them both being there is, "Good, you're going to need another set of hands.  Lonny's pump gave out, he had to drive out to get a replacement."

"Of course it did," Eli sighs, "Let's go see what the damage is."

Well, it turns out to not be quite as bad as Eli had expected.  The water is barely mid-calf, thanks to Lonny's now-deceased pump, and Virgil has sequestered himself in a classroom to worry about finances.  With the two biggest annoyances out of Eli's way, and with Jacob helping him carry the two pumps he brought along, getting settled in goes much easier than planned.  Once set up, the pumps begin to take care of the standing water issue, which leaves Eli and Jacob free to hunt down the cracked pipes responsible for the damage in the first place.

Things only start going downhill when they have to turn the water back on to test the suspect spots.  Eli doesn't realize until he's already turning the valve nearest him that he's getting soaked; by then it's too late, as the crack in the pipe directly next to the valve sprays him in the face at full force.  He isn't furious about it, not _exactly_ , but the frustration is enough to leave him quietly cursing to himself while Jacob makes himself useful tagging the spots that had leaked.  It is _objectively_ funny, and when Eli is less stressed he'll be able to laugh about it himself, but the fact that Jacob doesn't laugh at his misfortune is oddly reassuring.  Most people would try to lighten the mood - Jacob just gets on with things so Eli can do the same.

Which is good, because it's only a few minutes later when one of the pumps gets overwhelmed and fries out.  The other one is still going strong, thankfully, but Eli isn't looking forward to dropping another hundred-something on a replacement.  Tammy comes in and looks neutral-to-disappointed about Eli soaked to the bone while Jacob tries to pry out the debris that fried the pump in the first place. Eli decides it's probably better to ignore her for the time being.

"You watching for a reason?" Jacob grunts after Tammy fails to do more than stare for a good minute solid.

"Just making sure Eli's got it," she says, having the sense to sound mildly apologetic for it.  Jacob grunts and fixes her with an unimpressed stare that Eli would hate to be subject to, and soon enough she leaves with a muttered excuse Eli doesn't bother to pick up.  He knows she means well - they've been friends for a long long time and Tammy's seen him in some pretty dark spaces.  He just wishes she would maybe learn how to be subtle about her wellness checks.

Virgil is a lot harder to avoid when he shows up, standing on the second-to-bottom step even though the water is barely ankle-deep by now.  "How much is this going to cost?" he frets, "I feel like we just had someone out here to do maintenance.  It wasn't you, Eli, I don't think, but..."

"I'm not sure yet," Eli tells him.  "It's going to take me some time.  I'm probably going to be coming back tomorrow."

"I know, I know, just..."

Eli barely glances in Jacob's direction before he's cutting in.  "We're a little busy here," he grunts, hefting the dead pump up with a significant shake in Virgil's direction.  The mayor jumps, like he hadn't noticed Jacob's presence until just now, wringing his hands and gaping a little.

Finally, Virgil clears his throat.  "Of course," he says, stumbling over the words almost as much as he stumbles over himself to retreat back upstairs.  The look Jacob shares with Eli is wholeheartedly returned with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

The afternoon goes by faster than Eli can keep up with, and before long they're in the dark. They need a couple of requisitioned floodlights to get the poorly lit basement fully illuminated, and the glare from the water is managing to give Eli one hell of a headache.  He isn't sure what time it is when Lonny returns, but he's never been so grateful to see the scatterbrained motherfucker in his life.

"Man, Eli," Lonny says, "You look like shit."

"Don't I know it," Eli replies, having mentally checked out from the job as soon as Lonny had appeared at the top of the stairs with a half-eaten bag from McDonald's.

Eli's honestly not sure how he manages to get up the basement stairs, much less to his car.  Mostly all he knows is that Lonny is taking things over from here, and it's time to go home.  Judging by how few lights are on in the school, it's _well_ past that time.

There's no way in hell Eli can keep his eyes open long enough to drive right now, especially in the dark, so he hands his keys over to Jacob.  Eli doesn't remember much about the time between him putting on his seatbelt and them reaching the mountains.  He spends most of the drive dozing against the window, and he only keeps track of fragments of the time.  Jacob has the radio turned low, still on the crooner's station that Eli's left it on since their date.  He remembers Jacob humming along.  There's a glimpse of the dark cab reflected against the window; Jacob's hand is loose over the gearshift, fingers occasionally stretching out to close most, but not all, of the distance between his hand and Eli's.  He moves his fingers and feels the brush of skin, and even if he wanted to contain it, there's no stopping the warm ball that forms in his chest, sticking with him even as he falls asleep and forgets what brought it on to begin with.

Eli wakes up only momentarily when they go over the familiar bump that marks the start of his driveway.  If he weren't exhausted and soaked to the bone, this would be the perfect time to tell Jacob that both of these trips have been dates, that he's not scared of Jacob catching him, that he's ready to call this crush out for what it is.  But unfortunately, Eli _is_ exhausted, and soaked, and he can hardly string enough coherent thought together to unbuckle his seatbelt and open the door.  Jacob has to guide him up the front steps with a hand on his elbow, and he doesn't need to ask what Eli means as he gestures for Jacob to take care of the door.

Even though Jacob's been inside Eli's place plenty of times, it had almost always been to help Eli repair something.  Having him unlocking the front door and guiding Eli inside with a gentle touch is something completely different.  He's being too dramatic, too desperate, too - _whatever_ , and yet Eli can't help but let that fantasy of sharing this place with somebody again.  Even if it's just - letting him have a key.

"Keep it," Eli tells Jacob before he can drop the key down on the counter as they pass.  Jacob seems surprised that Eli's capable of cognizant thought, much less alert enough to catch the small gesture, but he _does_ tuck the key into his pocket.

"If you say so."

It's only when Jacob has him standing next to his bed that Eli realizes just what kind of night he'd missed having when he picked up that phone call.  Damn it - he's letting it go to voicemail next time.  "I could still order a pizza," he offers, but even as he says it, he knows he's lying.  The idea alone exhausts him.

Jacob shakes his head with a wry smile.  "I think we both know that's not in the cards."

With a groan of defeat, Eli forces himself through taking off his soaked jacket, boots, socks and jeans, getting all the way down to his undershirt and underwear before he realizes that Jacob's taken all of his clothes out of the room.  Eli pulls up the deceptively distant memory of Jacob asking if he had a washer, and that's about as far as he gets before he gives up on the whole problem entirely.  If only he hadn't gotten whacked in the face by a jet of water, if only he could keep his cool under Tammy's hawkish gaze and all of Virgil's worrying...

It isn't until well after he's climbed into bed that Jacob reappears, but even as tired as Eli is, he still manages to rouse at the sound of Jacob's voice; he's not awake by any means, but he can hear the quiet rumble by his ear. "Feels like this is only right," he says.  "I suppose we're even, now."

There's a span of silence like a heavy blanket, and at the end of it, Eli is only distantly aware of the way Jacob brushes some of his waterlogged hair away from his face.  Jacob mumbles an admission that Eli won't remember in the morning, but the pleasing noise is enough to ease Eli into sleep once and for all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHoo hope you enjoyed!!! please feel free to comment and share this story around, since tumblr has made it impossible to easily share updates!!


	7. just a temporary note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tl;dr: i'm definitely still working on updating, i just got blasted by holidays and the flu. this isn't a real update, so you don't need to read it unless you need my contact info!

so hey guys!!! long time no talk, sorry for the radio silence. the holidays were crazy, then i had a convention, and because of the convention i got the flu, soooo i'm kind of playing catch up in my life right now haha. just wanted to leave a message for y'all to let you knwo that this fic is NOT BEING ABANDONED, i'm just being slow as fuck lmao. so i have 2 chapters i'm working on, but depending on how this current plotline works i might condense it down to one chapter and - gasp - not write smut in order to accomodate for the plot. jesus christ, what kind of person have i become? used to be i wouldn't write anything without smut, but lately it's been holding me back creatively so i think for all our sakes, i'm just gonna bang this fucker out

THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID

(i've been doing my xth rewatch of the office while i was sick)

the reason i want to get this one done with is honestly b/c i have other ideas for this au!! i want to write more about john, and i want to write some established jacob/eli shit that i can't do while this is lying around in limbo. i also wanna be prepared for new dawn, so i can throw other characters in as i need to :) :)

sorry that this isn't a formal update! I'll delete this when i post again. if you're looking to contact me:  
\- i don't use tumblr, but i do occasionally go and check my inbox/messages! if you just want to drop an anonymous kudos that way, by all means  
\- if you want, you can follow me on twitter, where i'm currently the most active. that's... not saying much, admittedly, but hey its a place i'm at. [here it is!](https://twitter.com/bentsage)  
\- i have a dreamwidth! unfortunately i've let it die a little because of the flu, but i'm hoping to get my brain right again soon. [here that is!](http://bentsage.dreamwidth.org/)  
\- of course, there's always ao3 - i don't mind using my comments as just like, general contact. i get notifications (mostly) when i get comments, so i will see it :)  
\- lastly there's my e-mail, which is bearebentsage at gmail. like, if you go that route i'm gonna be surprised, because nobody sends email any more, but hey, if that's how you wanna roll who am i to stop you?

okay i think that's everything. anyway, if you read this i'm very surprised, i'm pretty sure the summary was all anyone actually needed to know. but hey, thanks! it's been a while since i felt like i could really talk to someone, you know? i think we have a real connection here

thanks for reading and supporting me you guys!! see you soon!!


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